Armadilloi's  Undisciplined vs The Nightmare
by jaytoyz
Summary: This is classic Armadilloi AU. Chuck and Sarah. Part one. I think Jim wouldn't mind this being shared. No clones or space aliens. I'll eventually move this to APR's account.I know there's at least three parts and I hope to post the rest if its wanted.JT
1. Chapter 1

**P/N: (Poster's note) This story appears here for the first time, as far as I know. I don't know why Jim never shared this…maybe he never got around to it or maybe he didn't think it was good enough and now I'll be haunted by his shade for sharing this. Oldestman has been slowly sending me Jim's stuff whenever he's feeling well enough to. Tom's currently fighting the same fight that Jim fought and, unfortunately, it looks like the outcome will be the same. If you're a fan of Oldestman's stories, drop him a line. I don't know for a fact but I'm sure he'd appreciate hearing from you. Eventually I'll be adding this to APR's account but until then, it'll be here. **

**I corrected a couple of spelling errors(imagine that, me correcting spelling mistakes) but aside from that, this is exactly as it was when I first read it. I know that there are more chapters and as I get them, I'll add them…as long there's an interest. **_**JT**_

**A/N: This part one of two planned parts but who knows. Non-canon, Charahpeeps will be pleased, plot lovers will also. Probably the product of a deranged tripe-writer but tough. I'm not a review nut otherwise I'd write 5 paragraph chapters.**

_Armor-Plated-Rat_

_Bayou Mansard_

_**Undisciplined – vs – The Nightmare**_

**1999**

"Charles, you know better. The guoi-fan is not to be used for your entertainment. Look at you. Covered in ice like chicken in a freezer. You are not ready. It takes years of study and you have not been the best student nor will you stay long enough to master it. Your destiny lies in _that _world," gesturing out the shop window, "not this one," pointing to rear of the shop. He loved that damned mountain pass she'd shown him near her birthplace. He would freeze to death one day or worse, lose his way and not be able to return.

"Now, find a broom and go sweep the back courtyard. The activity and sun will warm you." The Asian woman not so gently pushed the shivering young man toward the back of the shop, muttering curses and supplications to her gods to give her the strength and wisdom to sustain her until he graduated from Stanford.

She knew she would not find another who soaked up knowledge like this one. He had come looking for work to help pay his student expenses nearly three years ago and she had hired him even though she had no need of assistance. He was a scholar, this one, and she would teach him what she could of what she knew. He was not the first nor would he be the last but he would be the most challenging and Ahn-Zhu loved a challenge.

"Why, Ahn-Zhu, why does it work like that?" was his most frequent phrase. Why, how, when, were the first words he'd utter when he learned something new, found something he couldn't understand or realized something she hadn't yet taught him. Given a lifetime she might have been able to teach him patience but somehow she doubted that would be sufficient time. He lacked self-discipline, this one. He lacked all discipline. He was a lovable rogue born out of his time.

He did everything fast, wanted to learn quickly, did not prepare as much as respond and spent too much time with girls for his own good. He would never be a monk, that was for sure. If she were only 70 years younger she might have taught him things that made her blush to think about. The Disciplines served her well and she looked to be only 40 with smooth skin, black hair and a libido to match. Her mother and father were still living and she'd heard that her grandparents had lived to be well over 180 but she didn't believe it.

**Residence Hotel**

**Burbank, CA**

**2007**

"Graham, secure."

"Walker, secure. Director, I cannot perform this assignment. I cannot take one more moment of this idiot's immature, undisciplined crap."

"Calm down, Agent Walker. What's Bartowski done that has you so up in arms?"

"What hasn't he done? He ignores my instructions unless I reinforce them with a little pain, he questions my judgment, he makes a mockery of our cover and he has no idea of the need for security."

"Strange. Major Casey and the NSA are quite pleased with Mr. Bartowski. His results are what matter, Agent Walker, his results. Live with his methods, please, they yield results. Perhaps if you were to relax a little around the asset you wouldn't have these moments of meltdown. He's not 4 years old, Agent Walker and that's exactly how you're treating him."

"Director, that's exactly how's he's acting. He's a big dumb idiot with no drive, ambition, no desire to better himself plus he is downright aggravating. He's …"

"Agent Walker, firstly, he's not dumb. By comparison, you are dumb. He is off the charts smart, Walker. You don't know how to deal with the brilliant people because you've never dealt with anything other than your fellow agents and marks, and they are all, by definition, _dim_, in comparison to Bartowski."

"Secondly, he responds to respect not threats. Major Casey at least listens when Bartowski voices an opinion. Since you replaced Agent Thorne, you've done more to undermine the asset that to utilize his native talents. Every mission since your assignment has been either an outright failure or a marginally successful operation."

"Review the results prior to your arrival. Thorne was compromised and was professional enough to admit it. She saw past what you seem to be stuck looking at and worked with him as a true partner."

"Unfortunately, Bartowski somehow found his way past her defenses and into her heart. Rather than continue in a capacity where emotions might get in the way, she requested reassignment. He did not take it well at all. He saw her relief and reassignment as his 'fault' and said as much. You, Agent Walker, would not be missed for days if you were suddenly to disappear this very moment."

"What's that say about your performance, Agent? Quit bitching and start working with the asset. He's not going away _although you might be_ if things don't improve out there."

"Now, I have General Beckman waiting and I believe you have a mission briefing and you're late for it. Clean up your act, Agent Walker. This is the big-time."

Casa Bartowski

It was Friday night. Cover date night. Another night of hearing her bored and judgmental sighs about everything from where they went, what they did, what they ate to what he wore. He never had any problems like these with Robin Thorne. They were relaxed evenings with lots of laughter, zero business, and honest conversation. She listened when he talked and if she didn't understand something she asked for an explanation. She told him things she probably shouldn't have and always offered her own personal insights.

One of those 'insights' was that she had fallen for her asset, hard, and had to leave. Her explanation was short and her response to his objections even shorter. "Chuck, I love you and I don't want to be the cause of anything bad happening to you because of my emotions. And as far as any objection you might have, forget it, Chuck. They make all the right sounds at all the right times, but never forget – they do not care about Chuck, all they care about is the machine named Bartowski who carries their precious intersect."

"That's all you are and will ever be, Chuck. And someday, Chuck, when they get their precious machine to work, you'll be judged to be 'excess' and killed. And I can't be party to it. I'm sorry." And she was gone less than 8 hours later. Casey told him. She didn't leave a note, a message, or a post-it. She even gave back his t-shirts she'd stolen to sleep in thinking he wouldn't miss them.

If Agent Walker didn't understand something she dismissed it as 'stupid' or 'juvenile'. She felt out of place in an ordinary restaurant if the menu didn't include pate or wasn't written in French or Italian. She was arrogant and rude and made no attempt to get to know him as a person at all.

Walker was all about the perception of position and power. It made him want to puke.

_She_ made him want to puke.

He wanted his ordinary looking, beer drinking, burp-contest winning, 'shit, I've got a hang over, Chuck' Robin Thorne. He didn't love her but he liked the hell out of her. They had had sex, well, made love, several times in the month before she left. It wasn't to control him, either. No, it was because she wanted him. It was that simple. And if he liked her, a lot, the word would have stretched to the breaking point if Thorne had stayed. It would have shattered into 'love' within a few months. But she didn't stay. She was afraid she'd receive the order. She never said so, but Chuck knew it just as he knew the sun would rise and set.

_**Two months earlier**_

"_I know, stay in the van. Don't leave. Do not emerge from the vehicle. No sliding out for a latte. I get it, Robin. You're as bad a Casey."_

"_Well, thanks, Chuck, I consider that high praise. Now, be safe and flash your ass off so we can get out of the rain and back to the apartment. I know Ellie's made lasagna and if Awesome left any, we'll split it. One of the bennies to being your handler, Chuck, Ellie's cooking."_

_Beckman had decided that Chuck's cover of 4 months should have progressed to the 'moving in' stage so Robin had moved her stuff into Chuck's room and become a fixture in his life and that of his family's. Surprisingly, it was a comfortable arrangement. She and Ellie were like sisters and she thought Devon was 'awesome'. She was a cuddler and Chuck found he could handle it after a few sleepless nights of being surrounded by a soft and curvy woman whose idea of sleepwear was his t-shirt and a smile. On those nights they were apart Chuck found it hard to fall asleep._

"_You ready, Robin?"_

"_Ready, Casey. Did you see that guy down there with the big boat dragging animals into it? A modern day Noah?"_

"_It's just a light, gentle spring rain, Rob. You won't melt." The lightning and thunder was playing havoc with communications. Between the static and thunder they lost about every 4__th__ or so word. The video was little better._

"_Chuck…" Casey started to give his standard speech._

"_I know, stay in the van."_

"_Yeah. For once, please listen to your handler. You get cranky when you're wet." Casey laughed and he and Thorne trotted out through the rain to the office building and warehouse at the other side of the parking lot._

_The video pickup from their low-light headsets was displayed on a split screen and Chuck watched their progress through the office, showing them where to plant the repeater links on the office computers, which lines to tap and directing their path on his displays to the warehouse itself. The company was an importer of fireworks for US distribution._

"_Now remember, guys, no fireworks amongst the fireworks. But if you see some cool roman candles or stuff, appropriate some for me."_

"_Radio discipline, numb nuts. Buy your fireworks if you have to enrich the Red Chinese, Bartowski. I'm not filching any goodies for you. And neither is Thorne, right Rob?"_

"_M80s, Chuck?" She chuckled knowing it would piss Casey off._

"_Radio silence, Thorne. Jesus, now he's got her doing his filching."_

"_Time to Geiger up, boys and girls. Do not touch anything that looks like a pile of gray modeling clay." Chuck was deadly serious. What they were looking for would kill anyone who came in contact or even close proximity with it. Plutonium._

"_Hey, Casey, there's a dead rat on the ground, to your left. Sweep it." He got the double click acknowledgement and saw Casey sweep the pick up of the counter over the rat. Nothing. A dead rat with a high radioactive reading would be something else entirely._

"_OK, just a dead rat. Moving right along, campers. Mission clock is +20 minutes. We're behind the curve. No shortcuts but no loitering." Chuck's other job was to monitor progress against plan. They had a narrow window on the watchmen's rotation through the complex. The electrical storm was increasing in intensity and static was interfering with audio and visual reception._

_Headlights swept the recon van and Chuck ducked even though he knew no one could see through the deep tint. "Truck's arriving at the loading dock. Large U-Haul. Two men in cab, and …oh, shit. Time to unass. Six, no eight, heavily armed men in street clothes with night vision gear." He checked the position of the team against his diagram of the building._

"_Turn around, head south 50 meters or so then turn east to service bay. You should find a large set of double doors leading to the front-loading bay. Get there now. The evil dudes are in the warehouse and spreading out in a search pattern according to thermal sensors. Move your asses people."_

_The storm increased and the audio was blanked out by static from lightning and just plain loud thunder and rain drumming on the van roof. "Confirm instructions! Casey? Thorne?"_

"_Well this is just another fine mess you've gotten me into, Ollie." Still trying to reach his team he took off his headset and ran out of the van towards the front-loading bay doors. He could hear Casey and Thorne suddenly as he closed the range to the warehouse dock on his earwig._

"_Bad guy on the left, Casey."_

"_Got him. Let's go, Thorne. Move it. There's the doors, Chuck? Chuck, you copy?"_

"_Must be the storm. Let's ungh." Power failed on that grid section plunging the warehouse into darkness only occasionally broken by the strobe-like flashing of a lightning strike._

_As Casey burst through the doors Chuck could see over his shoulder the instant Robin went down, one leg flying up and her body crashing down driving her head into the warehouse floor._

"_Casey, Thorne's down. Casey?" No commo. Damned storm._

_Casey blew on past Chuck, not even noticing him amongst the cartons palleted on the loading dock and he ran toward the van. Chuck ran in, scooped up Thorne and threw her over his shoulder and followed, although at a much slower pace._

_Casey cursed the gods for saddling him with an asset who wouldn't follow directions. Just as he was going back out to find and kill his asset the doomed Chuck slid open the van door and deposited Casey's unconscious partner on the carpeted floor._

_The look he fixed John Casey would not soon be forgotten. "Forget someone, Major Casey?" Casey got to work on his partner just as a few bullets hit the side of the van._

"_Get us out of here, Bartowski. I'll work on Thorne."_

_Chuck drove like a madman to Burbank General Hospital and was just pulling into the ER parking area preparing to storm the ER with his injured handler when she put her arms around him from behind and said "Chuck, I just got knocked out. Not shot. Slow down and turn around and head for the Castle. It's OK. Calm down before you kill us all in an accident. The roads are awash from the storm, slow down, please?"_

_Chuck slowed down and pulled off the boulevard into the parking lot of a small strip mall. He slammed the van into park and threw himself out of the driver's door and stalked off down the street muttering imprecations and curses against the gods, the CIA, the NSA and all agents, big and small, totally unaware of or immune to the rain of dogs, cats and toads that was currently filling up the L.A. Basin with 12 inches of rain water. _

_Casey drove the van slowly along the street paralleling the pissed off asset. "Where do you suppose he's headed, Thorne?"_

"_Don't know Casey but thanks for pulling me out of there. I can't believe I got knocked cold from a bullet hitting the heel of my boot. Thanks, partner."_

"_Well, I didn't. I didn't even see you, Thorne. I was 10 feet ahead of you and just as I went out, your hero ran in and hoisted you over his shoulder and brought you to the van. I didn't even know you were down. Commo was shot due to weather. I guess Chuck saw it and panicked and ran for you. Dumb assed thing to do. But glad he did."_

_Thorne didn't say anything, just watched as her tall asset plowed through puddles, ponds and small lagoons on his way to who knew where._

"_I think almost losing one of us rattled his cage, Casey. Pull over and I'll bring the hero in out of the cold." Casey pulled the van in against the curb a few yards ahead of Chuck. A shaky Robin Thorne got out of the van, heedless of the rain and walked toward her asset._

"_Hey, Chuck. Please, get in the van. Please. You're going to catch pneumonia or a bad cold and Ellie will be all over me. Please, sweetie, in the van. We'll talk about this at home, OK?" She took him by the hand and led him to the van. _

"_To the Castle, John. Let's get out of these wet clothes and report to the general. And I need some extra strength Advil or Demerol for this headache. And I think Chuck needs some serious time alone. He's so pissed at us for messing up like that." Casey knew that Chuck was pissed at him, not for messing up the mission but for almost leaving his handler behind. Casey could see the signs of compromise on the road ahead. He just hoped his partner could see them, too._

"_So, General, the mission was only a partial success but we broke contact per instructions and returned. The information from the computers should prove interesting and valuable once the intersect reviews the data."_

"_Fine, but Mr. Bartowski, if you ever leave the van to rescue an agent, or assist an agent or for whatever reason, I'll bring you into secure custody immediately, is that understood?"_

"_Yes, General. Understood. I'll be packed and ready to go within 30 minutes. You already have my home address in your Rolodex, I'm sure. I'll be waiting for your little group of happy gnomes. Oh, do you have HBO?"_

"_You misunderstood, I meant, in the future, Mr. Bartowski." _

"_Well, I meant NOW, General. Might as well save you the bother. I will not let another member of this team suffer injury or harm or be 'left behind' if I can do something to prevent it. Given that stance, your pickup team might as well do its thing sooner as opposed to later, don't you agree?"_

_Casey muttered 'Oh, shit,' but stepped closer to Chuck in support while Thorne just looked at the floor, not wanting to see how this played out. She knew Chuck had screwed up leaving the van and she knew he was right in his world but wrong in hers. She waited for the hammer to fall, driving the first nail into Chuck's underground coffin._

_Diane Beckman did not like to be challenged, certainly not by a spoiled brat civilian who happened to have possession of the intersect. She knew that the effectiveness of the intersect would be diminished to the point of uselessness if Bartowski was put into custody. Between his rotten attitude and the constraints on his proximity to source data he might as well be dead. She toyed with that but dismissed it, for the time being. The new intersect was coming along and then she'd issue the order to eliminate the previous intersect. _

_He needed to be in the field. Things were heating up. The discovery of processed and machined plutonium in a shipping container in Long Beach sent alarms throughout the intelligence community and the military._

"_Very well, Chuck, your 'stance' is noted. See to it, Thorne and Casey, that he doesn't have reason to exercise his idiotic notion of nobility and team loyalty. Perhaps someone has seen too many movies where no on is left behind. That's a romantic notion and has no place in the intelligence field. Watch your ass, Bartowski. Don't overestimate your importance. You have been warned." The NSA logo floated across the screen._

_Little was said in the Castle between the team members. Casey felt uneasy around Chuck for obvious reasons and Thorne kept her distance from the other two while mulling over what to say to her asset when they were clear of Casey and the listening devices. Chuck just waited for the storm to pass. He knew he was right. As long as he did the 'right' thing he was satisfied._

_The drive back to the apartment seemed to take hours. Thorne's head was splitting and she felt sick to her stomach, a sure sign of a concussion. She'd lost track of how many she'd had in her 29 years but figured it was getting up there._

_Castle Bartowski_

_He helped her out of the Herder and into the apartment. Ellie and Devon were on shift so they had the place to themselves. He went to the bathroom and started the shower then found his handler working on removing her shoes without much success._

"_Hey, let me help. Then you get in the shower and I'll nuke some lasagna and we'll have a quiet dinner and you can yell at me and tell me that you, too, think I'm stupid for taking on Beckman over leaving you behind."_

_She nodded he head while he removed her clothing except for her bra and panties. This was a first. They'd never even indulged in non-cover anything, no handholding, nothing, except for the cuddling and that was almost like having a teddy bear. _

_He helped her down the hall to the shower and said quietly, "Sorry for the liberties but you're obviously not feeling that well so hop in the shower and then I'll bring you some dinner. I'll also bring you some clothes and leave them on the vanity." He'd never met her eyes during the whole speech, just reached in and made sure the water temp was tolerable and then handed her the body wash and left._

_She put on the clean underwear and threw on his t-shirt and a pair of her own shorts realizing that he had no intentions of 'getting physical' with her since he brought her 'sensible clothing'. Her disappointed sigh surprised her. _

_She had been tamping down her emotions and feelings for Chuck since moving in with him and it was getting more and more difficult to stop herself from just jumping his bones. She needed it and wanted it and she found herself falling deeper and deeper for her asset. She knew he felt something for her or he wouldn't have risked his life going in unarmed to pull her out. _

_She strolled out to the kitchen, doing her best to look bright-eyed and bushy-tailed to allay any concerns Chuck might have about her physical status._

'_She's pulling this off rather well, I think. The hard assed agent sloughing off a concussion as if it's nothing and probably thinking she's going to eat, drink beer and then chew his ass off for his foolish stunt. So not going to happen, Robin.'_

_She sat down and Chuck pulled her plate out of the warmer and then got her a glass of water and an unopened diet Coke. "I could use a beer, there, Charles. Fetch me one, post haste, asset." Her usual bantering humor was not going to fly this time._

"_Nope. Concussion + booze equals hospital. Nope. And we're going to do the every-two-hour neuro check, too. Just like in the movies. You were out cold for several minutes. You can chew on me now for failing to follow your instructions, but you will not hassle me about Beckman. That's my ass and I'll handle it. You can have the rest when she's not chewing on it."_

"_Chuck, she's right. You can't risk yourself for one of us. We protect you. Not the other way around. The President doesn't jump in front of a secret service agent, does he?"_

"_He would if he felt like I do, I mean, like I do a-a- about my handlers. I can't be detached and distant. We're a team, Robin, and we support each other. Beckman's wrong. Period. Now, eat your lasagna, sweetie, or I'll tell Ellie you thought it was dry and inedible."_

_And at that very moment Robin Thorne plunged headlong down the slippery slope to fully compromised status. Without a doubt she would have resigned from the Agency at that very moment and spent the remainder of her life hiding in Chuck's room and ravishing him nightly but for one niggling little factoid: she was a career professional. She knew what she had to do but put it off as long as possible. _

_In 29 years she had never been as happy as she had the past months. Being assigned to the intersect asset was the best thing that ever happened to her. She would give it a month and then reevaluate her position. She was only fooling herself but she refused to acknowledge such a thing. She was in love. And people in love do foolish things, don't they?_

_He woke her as promised every two hours. The first time she was cranky. The second time she was listless, the third time she was ready._

"_Robin, Robin, come on, wake up for me, Robin. Two hour neuro check as promised and required."_

"_Oh, Chuck, something's wrong. See, look right here…" He leaned over to see what was wrong with her neck and she pounced, rolling him over onto his back and straddling him with his arms trapped against his body._

"_Now, Chuck, this is how it's going to be. I am going to slowly remove all my clothing and then I'm going to kiss you until you can't remember your own name and then I'm going to ravish you until you can't remember a damned thing except MY name. I've been patient, I've been professional, and I've been respectful, but damn it, I love you and I'm going to make the most of whatever time we have. Understand?"_

"_Ummm, are you sure you're feeling all right?" He screeched as she grabbed him firmly and said, "I am feeling great and I intend to feel a lot better in a while, understood?"_

"_Do I get to take off your clothes next time, Robin? Or is that like, 'wait in the van, Chuck', type of instruction?"_

"_Smart ass."_

"_Chuck, I have to talk to you. This past month has been the most incredible time of my life but I can't be your handler and your lover at the same time. You know why. I'm leaving in the morning, Chuck. It has to be this way. Please don't look so glum, Chuck. I'm hopelessly compromised and hopelessly in love with you. You're just moving through 'like' so don't get all mushy and profess what you don't feel yet. You don't lie Chuck, and that would be a lie."_

"_Why? I mean you didn't just discover you were compromised, did you? You told me you loved me from the start. So what was this, a fucking vacation for you? Jesus, Rob, you can't mean this. "_

"_Chuck, I love you and I don't want to be the cause of anything bad happening to you because of my emotions." 'And I don't want to be the one or watch as you're killed for being the obsolete intersect.'_

_And she was gone the next day._

BuyMore

Burbank, CA

A week later, Marissa Stone walked into the BuyMore and approached the man at the Customer Service Counter. "My cell phone has died and I don't know why, could you please look at it for me?" Chuck took in the CIA agent with a glance, disgusted with his life and this munchkin version of Robin Thorne. Someone in the CIA had a weird and perverse sense of humor. Or Robin Thorne had a twin sister. "Sure. If you want to look around for a while, I'll have it back up for you in a few minutes." He knew if he turned screw A and tightened screw B it would work fine.

"There you are, Miss. Compliments of the BuyMore. No charge." He turned on his heel and walked around until he found John Casey. "Casey, tell them no. I won't work with a Thorne clone. Not going to happen. Tell them to send me her evil stepsister. I can live with bitchy. All that sweetness and light would kill me in a week."

Casey laughed, actually laughed. "Oh, Bartowski, be careful what you wish for. She's the best of the bunch. No baggage, first assignment, full authorization for intersect duty. You won't get one better suited to your … unique personality. They even had an FBI profiler select her based on your 'preferences'. OK, I'll tell Beckman. She's not going to be pleased I can tell you that."

"He said what, Major Casey?" Beckman was at the end of her rope with Bartowski. If the damned trolls in the NSA labs could just finish the intersect without creating exploding death traps she could be rid of this obnoxious Nerd.

"He said all that sweetness and light would kill him in a week and to send him her evil step-sister instead of a Thorne clone."

"So be it, Major." She knew exactly who she'd send – the most evil and heartless agent she knew, The Nightmare, the perfect assassin for the most obnoxious human being in the world. She was still angry about the confrontation where he'd defied her with his old-fashioned 'stance'. Damned romantic. He should have been born in the 10th century if he had to be born at all.

Three weeks later a very unhappy Sarah Walker showed up in her Porsche and strutted into the BuyMore looking like she'd just stepped out of a centerfold or off the cover of Vogue and asked Chuck to 'fix this cell phone, please? It doesn't work,' and after he tightened a screw that had come loose and checked the connections, he told her it was fine and there was no charge. She strutted out the same way she'd come in, arrogant, cold and aloof, leaving without so much as a 'thank you, peasant'.

She was immediately forgotten as Chuck wallowed in his own self-pity over Thorne's departure.

The next day Casey had put it best that 'agents come and go but Bartowski is stuck here.' He laughed when Chuck shot him the bird but straightened up and walked away when he heard "My cell phone must still be broken. I've been in town all this time and you haven't called." Chuck looked at her in disgust.

"Agent Walker, I presume? That's the lamest line I've heard since I got involved with this crap. I suppose you want to discuss our cover? Agent Casey is over there in the appliance section. I'm sure he'll need you for some in-processing nonsense. I'm due back in the cage. I suppose I'll have to see you later. Have a nice day, Agent Walker."

Sarah Walker was not used to being dismissed by a man out of hand especially not one who was so obviously...deficient. She'd heard about the fate of one former handler, hopelessly compromised, reassigned to undercover work in some backwater country, probably as a fishmonger's wife. She already hated this assignment. She'd been good at what she'd been doing in South America until Bryce got tangled up with Fulcrum and then destroyed the Intersect and their plans for a future outside the Agency. Of all the dumb asses in the world he had to send it to, this one was by far the dumbest. She hoped her NSA partner was at least tolerable.

'Agent Walker, Major John Casey. I see you've met Chuck Bartowski. Interesting fellow, don't you think?" Casey treated Chuck like the annoying little brother he'd never had. He'd commiserated with him over many a beer since Robin's departure just as he had with Robin over Chuck's antics. He doubted very much that Sarah Walker drank beer. She looked more like the white wine type. And he knew of her, knew of her moniker, The Nightmare, and how she'd earned it. Well, Chuck got what he wished for. Now, if only he could survive his new handler.

"I knew Robin Thorne at the Academy. She was in the class ahead of mine. She seemed competent if somewhat ordinary. I know how she got along with the asset. Was she using the honey trap to keep him in line from the beginning or was it necessary later on? I have to know what is expected of me." She shuddered at the thought of sex with Bartowski. Oh, God, maybe she could just pretend to be lesbian. It had worked in Bulgaria, until the mark's sister came for a visit.

"Agent Walker, Agent Thorne never used the 'honey trap', she didn't have to. Bartowski takes the intersect duties very seriously but wants to have a life of his own. Thorne filled that role voluntarily and then she got hopelessly involved with him and left. He took it hard."

"It was real for both of them, Agent Walker, not a role she was playing. They were honest with each other from the beginning and that honesty kept them viable for a while until Thorne just couldn't risk him any longer and pulled the plug on it. Hurt him, too, although he'll never admit it. And it never, ever, got in the way of a mission." He told her about Chuck's confrontation with Beckman and the results. He was proud of his asset. She was appalled.

"He said that to the General and got away with it? How? He broke protocols. He put himself in a compromising position and that can never happen with the intersect. Once the new program comes on line he'll be…redundant and probably disposed of. That's the only reason I can fathom that she would tolerate such… disrespectful and insubordinate behavior."

Casey sighed. This was going to be a painful process of either bringing her around to the team's way of thinking or building a case to get rid of her. That would be difficult considering The Nightmare's unparalleled string of successful missions. But Beckman had mellowed and actually praised Chuck's initiative on several occasions. She was beginning to accept that the team worked, not just the intersect. As for redundancy, she obviously didn't know about the last 3 attempts to rebuild the intersect and the 3 failures.

"He saved the mission, saved a team mate and we still accomplished most of the mission goals. Fulcrum was tipped off and we almost got nailed. He went in and saved his handler. He didn't think, he just did. It's why we're so committed. He'd run into a burning building to bring one of us out. It's why I regard this as a plum assignment."

"Also, if you lie to him, you're toast. He requires us to be honest with him, even if it hurts. He'll be brutally honest with us, also. And with you, even more so because he'll know you're looking down your pretty patrician nose at him and he'll find that amusing, then annoying and finally, you'll be gone with a nice black mark in your copybook, Agent. There is a line of applicants for your position. These people have heard of him and want to be on this team. How did you get here?"

"I was partnered with Bryce Larkin and…"

"Oh, shit. You're the one he was undercover with? Oh, crap. Don't mention that to Bartowski. Larkin sent him the intersect, Larkin ruined his life at Stanford, then your boytoy screwed his fiancé and made sure he caught them in bed together. He was Chuck's best friend. Tell me, how was it, sleeping with a snake? God, I don't know whether to pity you or what. Just don't bring that crap to the team. It's over, right?"

"Yes, um, yeah, it's over. And I'll keep it between us. It's really none of his business anyway. I keep my personal life well away from my professional life, Major Casey. I assume you do, too?"

He just looked at her and shook his head. "This is your entire life now, Agent. 24/7 until relieved or he's dead. As such, you no longer have a personal life, just as he doesn't. I suppose they didn't tell you that back in Langley, did they?"

Present Day

"Chuck, have you seen Walker?" Casey needed to brief them both in on a new mission that came up as a result of one of Chuck's earlier flashes on the dailies. Someone in D.C. finally looked at his daily report and took note and requested a mission.

"No, and she's late for cover date night, too. Thank God for that. Fewer minutes with Ms. 'This is so disgusting. Why can't we go someplace upscale where they don't drink wine out of boxes'? That Agent Sarah 'I hate Bartowski' Walker?"

Casey actually laughed. "Yep, that would be the one. Have you tried calling her, Chuck? She does have a cell phone, you know? It wouldn't hurt you to be a little courteous to her, Chuck. Quit being such a jerk off."

"Courteous? This is the woman that actually pinched my arm as a warning of what would happen if I left the van. This is the woman whose idea of fun is totally unknown to me. This is the woman I don't even know after 4 dates and 2 weeks. Casey, she has got to go, my man. Get me someone without a ton of Bryce-baggage, please?"

"She told you about that? God damn her! I told her to keep that shit from you for her own good." The Nightmare was fast becoming a nightmare for Chuck. Casey chuckled for about the 100th time. He'd always heeded the warning 'be careful what you wish for, you just might get it'. Chuck wanted the 'evil step-sister' instead of a pixie Robin Thorne clone. Well he got it, and more.

"Casey, I'm the intersect. I know all, see all, tell very damned little. It's her private business but obviously Bryce has influenced her opinions. She's a pompous, egotistical, self-centered, overachiever with a superiority complex that matches Larkin's. And she lives up to her handle, doesn't she? The witch _is_ a Nightmare. I don't like her and we don't need her. And worst of all, I don't trust her."

Trust. The kiss of death. If he didn't trust her he couldn't work with her. End of story. He needed to let Walker know upfront about the trust issue. It was a career killer for sure. He knew if he asked for more time for Walker he'd get it. But right now he didn't even know where she was and they had a mission briefing in 30 minutes.

Castle Facility

Burbank, CA

The teleconference briefing originated from Graham's office for a change instead of the little General's. That was the only difference.

"Team, you objective is to identify as many of the Fulcrum couriers and related underlings as possible. We're taking a new approach: cutting off their troops by identifying and arresting them. Many of these operatives will be known personally by Major Casey and Agent Walker. Fulcrum has stepped up it's defection campaigns and is apparently having great success. It is imperative that we identify and eliminate these defectors before they can damage our own operations through sabotage and espionage."

Chuck had discovered a pattern to the movement of known defectors between cities. Los Angeles, San Francisco and Seattle appeared to be 'hub cities' and the General had dubbed the facilities 'hives'. Although they had not yet found the Los Angeles hive location, Chuck had isolated patterns of movement, both legitimate and suspect, in San Francisco Bay area and had narrowed it down to a string of pier-side warehouses along the southern-most portion of the port.

"That makes sense. They can use the shipping containers to move people, material and weapons from city to city, even internationally." Sarah shuddered at the thought of spending a week or more shut up in a shipping container. She'd never admit it but she was mildly claustrophobic.

"There are rail spurs and sidings all over the port. Put a container on a flatbed truck or railroad car and they can be anywhere in the US within 5 days. Not a bad way to avoid detection of routes or individual shipments." Chuck was still trying to find the link to an initial shipping point figuring from there it was just a matter of connecting the dots.

"Casey, what we need are shipping and cargo manifests from ships with cargo we know is coming from or being sent to a Fulcrum hive location. From there we track individual containers and determine route and method. But how do we get the first piece of the puzzle?"

Director Graham provided the missing piece in the teleconference inadvertently.

"Mr. Bartowski, do you recognize the man in this photograph?" He showed Chuck an 8X10 grainy photo of a man exchanging suitcases with another man.

"The man on the left is a regional director for the office of Homeland Security, Donald Wallace, who coordinates efforts on the state levels for the US Southwest excluding California. The man on the right is, it's blurry, but it looks like Wexler of the Aryan Nation. So he's not dead?"

"Apparently not. And Wallace is now suspected of providing Wexler with the locations of arms caches at selected locations in states under Wallace's jurisdiction in exchange for a large sum in stolen treasury bonds. Wallace is definitely Fulcrum but I needed you to identify the other man. Good job. You got them both! Wallace cracked like an egg and provided us with the locations in his area before he became unavailable for further questioning." It gave Chuck an uncomfortable feeling hearing a man's death described as 'unavailable'.

"Yes, Director, but more important than that is we have a known location of stolen arms and can back track them to the ports of entry or surface transport from US locations."

"Question, Director. Is Fulcrum using the AN as 'troops' to further it's cause?"

"Unknown, Agent Walker, but I'm sure you'll find out, won't you."

"I'll send you the locations we've learned about and you can pursue this dot-connecting as a result. Good work, everyone."

From the information provided by the late regional director of homeland security they were able to determine that the closest weapons cache was just outside Stockton, California. Casey organized helicopter transport while Walker examined the latest satellite photos of the suspected cache.

It appeared to be located on the southwest perimeter of a deactivated group of old Titan missile silos referred to as 'a farm' by the Air Force because of how they used farms as covers for their locations back during the Cold War. It had all the physical properties of the barn it was supposed to represent but in fact it was a multi-storied warehouse or storage facility with most levels underground. Walker figured that was where they were storing the weapons.

Chuck had flashed earlier when she had brought up the satellite map showing the location of the 'farm'. It was owned by a company that stored paper records for various legal firms and corporations where the Best Evidence Rule of 1941 required true paper copies, an anachronism from an earlier time. Missile silos were dry and could be sealed and with internal climate controls they made the perfect environment for storage of paper and old microfilm and microfiche.

Donald Wallace had been on the Board of Directors of the corporation that owned the silos. That corporation was owned by another that was owned by a company chartered in Luxembourg with a post office box for an address. Donald Wallace had been on the board of the all three corporations. No other one individual was on any of the other boards. They had their link.

Casey proposed a simple plan. Simple was good. Fewer 'moving parts' to break. Helicopters would deposit a strike team immediately behind the barn structure and the agents and asset would land a hundred yards behind the strike team. No one was taking the Intersect's safety for granted.

"Mr. Bartowski, stay behind Casey and I and if we tell you to do something, please do it immediately without your usual 'why'. Please?" She put her hand on his to emphasize the importance of this to her.

He gently removed his hand from under hers and looked at Casey and snarked "where's the truck for Chuck?" He didn't notice the briefly strange look that transited Walker's face. It was very brief but then John Casey was very observant. 'Good boy, Chuck. Keep it professional and distant. This one is a heart-breaker and a life-taker.'

"We'll have to improvise, Bartowski. Maybe find an old authentic outhouse and you can stay in the basement?" He thought that was hilarious and even Walker smiled.

"Very funny, Casey. Just remember who's riding back from the airport with you."

NSA Helicopter Flight

UH1-E Team Intersect Helicopter

The two-hour ride to Stockton provided Chuck with the opportunity to catch up on his sleep. He found that helicopters were like lullabies and a cradle. He could sleep soundly despite the noise and buffeting. Walker found that strange since she always tensed up on choppers but she realized that Chuck handled stress by sleeping, just like seasoned combat veterans did.

She basically distrusted any aircraft where the wings flew around her head in circles.

Stockton CA

Suspected Fulcrum Hive

The three Blackhawks carrying the strike team landed without opposition. None was expected. The team chopper landed far back as planned and they got out and trotted to the strike team's perimeter.

Just as the strike team was preparing to advance and enter the barn structure weapons fire erupted from fake haystacks and from the structure itself. The choppers let loose with their miniguns and the depleted uranium rounds made short work of the pillboxes constructed within the haystacks. The choppers then began chasing down the routed defenders who were trying to escape in utility vehicles.

The strike team entered and secured the building while the intersect team led the way along 'corridors' created by the stacked shipping containers. Chuck was busy photographing the shipping and routing details when the word came from the strike team leader to evacuate immediately. And then the overhead lighting went out plunging the structure into inky blackness.

Chuck had been following dutifully along behind his handlers and failed to note that they'd made a turn to the left while he was taking photograph's of the trucking company details on one of the containers. When he got the order he turned around and realized his handlers were not where he'd left them.

"Casey, where are you guys?" His radio still worked.

"Chuck, you heard the strike team leader's order to evacuate. Don't wait for us, go now."

"Well, that's going to be problematic since you turned one way and I think I got turned around somehow while taking the photographs. I think, no I know, I'm lost. Head for the nearest exit and I'll find you guys on the outside. I'm moving now." He started retracing his steps. In the dark with only his night vision goggles providing illumination from the ambient light he figured he'd have no problem retracing his steps. He was very wrong.

"Walker, this is Casey. I'm at the exit. No sign of Chuck. Damn it, we should have roped him to us. Or at least made sure he was between us. Chuck, do you copy?"

"Yeah, and I found out why they wanted to evacuate. There's a rather large device here attached to what appears to be a daisy chain of small artillery shells. Oh, shit, oh dear. I think my warranty is about to expire. "

Sarah Walker blanched when she heard Chuck comment on his warranty. "Mr. Bartowski, if you had listened to our instructions you wouldn't be in a warranty expiration position. You never listen to me, ever. You are so… stay put, Mr. Bartowski and _**Do. Not. Move**_!" And she grabbed Casey's GPS tracker and set off at a sprint for the blinking green light. '_**I'll show him who is worthy of trust.'**_

"Hey, Casey, you got me on your GPS?"

"Ah, that's a negative, Chuck. Walker just grabbed it and hared out into the barn."

"Agent Walker, forget it. Turn around. Use it to guide me out, not find me. Won't do either of us much good if we're together but killed by the explosion. Turn around, and get out and lead me out. It's like a maze in here. Maybe I should just defuse the damned bomb." Chuck turned around and examined the firing device that was steadily counting down the remaining minutes of Chuck Bartowski.

'_Well, this sucks. Four minutes. A lifetime. I can do this. I will do this.'_ Flipping on his comm. he again tried to contact Sarah Walker. "Agent Walker, I'm just going to disarm this sucker. Shouldn't be too hard for an electrical engineer from Stanford. Turn around and get out!" He didn't mention that he'd never graduated but that seemed unnecessary now.

He unscrewed the cover panel using his multi-tool and saw a mass of wires. He knew most were dummies to distract him but he also figured at least one or more were anti-tamper devices. It's what he'd do.

Sarah was walking quickly but calmly using the GPS and her maglight to wend her way deeper into the barn. She had to find him. She picked up her pace.

Chuck had found and isolated the power source and deactivated the bomb. The countdown was stopped at 2:28, a lifetime. He wished he still smoked. He could use a cigarette about now. Something to calm his nerves.

"Casey, Chuck. I deactivated the power. The countdown timer froze at 2:28. Find the power and get the lights back on and I'll see you in a few minutes."

"Bartowski, Walker. Stay put; I'm almost to you. Do not move." She wasn't far from him but the maze could turn 20 linear feet from point A to B into a hundred yards via maze.

Chuck sat down and leaned against the container. Walker appeared from the dark and shone her mag light over the timer. "Bartowski, you said it stopped at 2:28, right? Well, it started again."

"Shit!" He grabbed her by the hand and ran pulling her along behind her.

"Stop! You're going to get lost, wait, this is not the way out."

"I know that," he yelled. He also knew he had to get as many stacks of containers between them and the explosives as he could. It had taken Walker almost 3 minutes to reach him and he knew that was with the GPS guiding in on his transponder. There were no breadcrumbs to follow leading them out.

"Walker, I'm sorry. I didn't want either of you coming in here after me. No one should be in jeopardy because of me. Now, I'm going to open this shipping container and we're going to make a cave for ourselves then close the door. I figure we have a minute until it blows maybe less, so help me out as much as you can but please do exactly what I tell you." She looked at him and nodded. He had taken command and she hadn't even tried to stop him.

He opened the door on one of the containers and was relieved to find it contained communications gear. He dragged out four or five cases, looked at the 'cave' he'd created then motioned Walker to get in first and lie down. "No, I can't, it's too small, too close. Leave the door open, please?" Claustrophobia in an agent?

"Walker, look over there, what's that?" When she turned he hit her behind her ear on the mastoid cavity. Years earlier, Ahn-Zhu had told him in passing that it would render the victim unconscious without danger of permanent injury; he did not want Walker and her knives pissed at him.

She collapsed and he dragged her into the cave, pushing her in until she was under all the other cases. He took a deep breath and closed the door, securing it.

"Casey, Bartowski. Walker's kind of freaking out so I put her out for a bit. I've made us a place in one of the shipping containers about 4 rows from ground zero. I'm closing it up and keeping my GPS on. I'll check commo every 30 minutes beginning right after the big bang. If it doesn't go as planned, Casey, it was my choice. Sorry about Walker, Casey. She shouldn't have tired to save me. Wasn't worth it."

He turned off his comm. unit and crawled up into the 'cave'. It was tight but the alternative was totally unacceptable.

When the explosion came it was anticlimactic - until the cases began to shift and shatter as the container was thrown on its side. Luckily he'd arranged the cases and crates so that they overlapped and didn't collapse into the 'cave'. He hadn't anticipated the impact and rolling of the container. A few cases shattered from the impact. One shattered and sent shards of wood into the backs of Chuck's legs and his back like dime-sized splinters. He didn't think they'd done much damage since he didn't feel a lot of pain. And he found Sarah Walker on top of him, unconscious.

Sarah Walker regained consciousness and panicked and began to hyperventilate and cry. She struck out and managed to bloody Chuck's nose and split his lip before she realized she wasn't alone.

"Bartowski, is that you? Are you OK? Has the bomb gone off yet? Are they looking for us? Hey, damn it, Bartowski, talk to me."

"Wait a minute, Agent Walker. I'm trying to reach Casey. Don't know if he can get our comm. signal but the GPS will cut through this clutter. Just hold on, Walker, and take deep cleansing-breaths and then think of something really cool and refreshing. Think of the surf at Malibu right before a storm with the waves crashing down on the beach and the rain cooling your face. Imagine it, Agent Walker, and feel it. And relax."

"Ch-Chuck, I'm sorry I hit you. Did I hurt you? Are you OK?"

"I'm fine, just fine. A little dizzy but otherwise OK. You? You done flashing back to something horrible? We're here, safe and together. Doesn't get much better. Well, it could if we had beer. And wings. Hot wings with sauce. See, Agent Walker, its not so bad, is it?"

"I can't stay here. I have to get out. I'm suffocating and it's – the walls are going to fall in on us and crush us if we don't suffocate first. Get me out, Bartowski, please!"

She was pounding on his chest and her hair had come loose from its mission ponytail and he thought he caught the scent of vanilla. He put his arms around her and put a hand on her head and pushed her head down against his chest.

"Listen to that heartbeat, Sarah. It's slow and steady. Listen to it and try and match yours to mine. Shhh. It's OK. I've got you. Nothing's going to hurt you. Think of my heartbeat and the beach at Malibu and the sounds of the waves and the seagulls. There's a warm breeze blowing up the beach from the south and the sun feels so warm on your face. Relax, Sarah, relax."

Sarah was gradually calming down. The slow beat of his heart and the calming effect of his voice lulled her into an almost doze. The warm breeze ruffled her hair and the sound of the seagulls and surf was very relaxing. She dozed in the warm sand, the breeze keeping her cool. She started, almost crying out. What the hell just happened?

She reached up and put her arms around his neck and pulled herself up until she thought they were face to face.

"Chuck Bartowski, that was the kindest and most gentle thing any man has ever done for me. Thank you, Bartowski. I think I'm glad I'm your agent. I hope you are too." She sighed and leaned down until her lips touched him. She kissed his cheek and sighed again. If it were just a little cooler this would be perfect. Her cheek slid against his, aided by… blood!

"You're hurt. I feel blood on your face. Were you hit by something in the explosion?" Chuck laughed. "Yeah, your fists. You were a little excited but you're OK now. Just don't punch me again, please, Nightmare?"

"Sorry. I guess I freaked." Oh, shit. He knows my handle. '_Of course he does, he's the Intersect, or have you been so busy trying to make him miserable that you forgot that one little itsy bitsy piece of information. It's why you're here, Nightmare, to protect the mark.' _

"Stop. Don't mention it or think about it. Think about the surf before a storm or a cool mountain pass with snow underfoot. And relax, Walker, just relax. Help is on the way. Casey says it's just going to be a while. The barn's on fire and they're not sure exactly how to reach us. We'll be out and in the fresh air in no time. Just relax. Sleep if you can, but keep still, please."

He didn't want her to know that every time she moved the splinters in his ass and back dug in a little deeper and he knew screaming out in pain would freak her out again. And the air was going bad, the fires were probably sucking all the oxygen out of the barn, what was left of it.

**The Barn**

**2 hours later**

Two hours later the rescue team finally found the container they were in. When the team forced open the warped door they saw the agents, one on top of the other, asleep. Or so they hoped.

They grabbed Chuck's feet figuring to pull him and his sleeping passenger off the jumble of boxes and out into the fairly clean area, but they stopped immediately when Chuck began to scream even as he slept.

"Oh, shit, Major, we got blood here and injuries. Send up the crash team. Agent Walker, wake up. You're safe now but you need to wake up and get off your partner so we can help him. AGENT WALKER, GET UP!" Training and instinct kicked in and Sarah bolted awake and slammed her head into the 'ceiling' of the cave.

"Damn! Someone get me out of here. Bartowski, we're saved. Hey, Bartowski? Oh, no. Chuck, please, don't do this. Please!" She struggled to get out but the words of the paramedic stopped her.

"Agent Walker, don't. The crate forming your 'floor' shattered and he's got wood splinters acting like barbs. You need to be very calm and careful and let us pull you out. On 3… 1…2…3. And she was pulled off him and strong hands grabbed her and stood her upright and into an embrace.

"Damn, partner, don't hare out on me. The boy needs us calm and collected. He's in trouble but it's not serious, understand? It's not serious. So pull it together and calm down. He needs you to be strong for him. He saved you, Walker, now return the favor."

Someone tried to put an O2 mask on her but she pushed the hand aside.

"Casey, it was horrible. I wouldn't get in and so he knocked me out. And when I came to I panicked and hit him and he just took it and calmed me down. Told me about the surf at Malibu before a storm and made me listen to his heartbeat. It worked and I was calm. I didn't know he was hurt, Casey, honest. I didn't know…" She started crying into his chest and he was unsure what to do so he just let her cry while they worked to get the asset out of the shattered bunch of crates.

CIA/NSA Medical Facility

It was dark when he tried to open his eyes the first time so he figured they were still in the container and he just sighed and went back to sleep. He was almost asleep when he realized that there was no Agent Walker lying on him. He panicked and tried to sit up but was just too damned tired and being on his side was no help, either.

"Sar? Sar-ah? SARAAAAAH!" Two attempts at words then one scream to wake the dead – and Sarah Walker.

"Chuck, it's OK, you're OK, I'm OK. We're out, and you're in a hospital. You got splinters in your ass and they were too big for me to pull out so I got some help. It's OK. You did good. We're safe." Knowing the reason for his panic and the solution, she kicked off her hospital slippers and lay down next to him, putting her head on his chest.

His sigh told her he would be all right. Everything would be fine. It would just take a week for all the stitches to heal and he'd be back to his old obnoxious self. The problem was _she_ wasn't _her_ old obnoxious self. Something had untwisted in her in that coffin they were in. She was glad she'd met Bartowski, no, Chuck. He'd made her feel safe and…wanted, if just for a bit. And she didn't mind that feeling at all. She realized she liked feeling safe and …wanted. And she liked who made that possible. She resolved then and there that The Nightmare had been permanently retired. Sarah Walker was on duty in her place.

They'd be back in Burbank tomorrow. Casey had already returned, handling the inevitable inquiries about how, when and why the intersect was injured. Better him than her.

Castle Facility

Burbank, CA

"Major Casey, just how did this happen? Where were you and Agent Walker? And more importantly, just how did the both of them survive such a horrific blast?"

"General, Director, we were in a huge facility filled with ocean-going shipping containers stacked 3 high and creating a real maze. Chuck was, er, Bartowski was photographing shipping container information hoping to find the thread to lead us to the various sources. He became engrossed in one label different from the rest and didn't follow us when we made a turn in the maze."

"A few minutes later the strike team leader gave the order to abort the mission and evacuate and Chuck was behind us somewhere and then the lights went out. We spoke by comm. and I was going to guide him out when Agent Walker grabbed the GPS unit and went in after the asset."

"It seems that he found the explosive device and temporarily disarmed it and he and Agent Walker were making their way out of the maze when it started it's count down again. Bartowski knew they couldn't make it out so he opened a container and created a nest or cave and then put Walker and then himself in it and closed the door. The explosion turned the container on its side and the crate they were lying on shattered and wood slivers pierced his back and legs. We found them using the GPS and extracted them."

"Agent Walker was shaken but unhurt but Bartowski was skewered to the 'floor' of the nest and had to be extracted very carefully. They were both treated and Bartowski was stitched up and Agent Walker remained behind as security. They should be here tomorrow afternoon ready to resume their duties."

"His quick thinking saved both their lives and he kept the data from the camera. Except for his injury the mission was a total success. I'm sure he'll find the connection we've all been looking for. He's persistent and driving when presented with a challenge."

"So you think Walker should remain? Despite her reaction at the scene?" Casey was uncomfortable with this line of questioning but was a loyal partner.

"Absolutely. She and I make a good team. Don't spoil it."

"Very well, Major Casey. We'll keep the status quo. Keep Mr. Bartowski out of trouble, Major. He's done very well, don't you think?"

"Oh, yes, ma'am. Very well indeed. I know agents who wouldn't have been as quick witted and self-assured as he was. They'd be dead agents, director."

"Carry on, Major Casey and tell Mr. Bartowski 'well done' from me."

Casey now understood the importance of never letting them see you sweat.

"Oh, and Major, tell Mr. Bartowski to quit the BuyMore. He's on our payroll now and can spend his time more productively at the Castle. Full benefits and pay retroactive to his receiving the intersect. A small 'thank you' from a grateful nation."

The 'thunk' of Casey's jaw hitting the desk actually echoed throughout the Castle. Beckman must be having hot flashes or something. She seemed…'human'.

He had to admit he was very pleased in the sudden change in Walker. Gone was the self-assured and snarky bitch and in her place was a human being. Whatever happened in that container was between them but whatever it was, it had certainly helped the team dynamic. He had a feeling that he'd seen the last of The Nightmare.

**NSA UH-1E helicopter transport**

The flight back to Burbank was not a pleasant one for Chuck. For one thing, he had a dozen stitches in his ass and another 20 or so distributed randomly in his back and thighs so sitting was definitely an uncomfortable situation. His handler had handled that problem by having him lie on his uninjured side with his head in her lap across the jump seats. She spent most of the flight silently stroking his hair. It was comforting but disconcerting at the same time.

The other reason was that his handler was making life difficult for him since the container episode. Perhaps 'difficult' wasn't the right word but he couldn't think of anything else. She was always touching him as if making sure he hadn't slipped away while she wasn't looking. It wasn't a 'loving' touch, but more like an emotionally satisfying touch of confirmation.

He hoped she'd 'grow out of it' once they were back in Burbank and on the job again. He still didn't see her as a long-term fixture. She was just too damned obnoxious for him to stomach.

Chuck had finally dozed off; he could always sleep on choppers. He'd avoided taking the painkillers because he really wasn't in any pain unless he bent or twisted and then it was only a sudden and fleeting jab of a pulling stitch or complaining muscle. He also didn't want to find himself unable to wake up if he had that damned dream again.

_He was back in the barn but after the explosion. He could hear Sarah screaming for him and he couldn't find her. He tried following her voice but it seemed to be coming from a different place each time he opened a container. No matter how fast he opened the container door her voice was always coming from the next container over. _

_At last he was standing before the last unopened container and he heard her voice from inside calling for him to save her, to get her out, not to allow her to die alone in the dark. He stood outside the heavy door, his ear pressed to the cold steel, and listened. She was sobbing his name and begging him to find her and let her out._

_He opened the door but he was too late. _

He woke up sweating, breathing heavily and muttering under his breath. He could still hear her pleas even awake. And he had just stood there listening while she died, alone and in the dark.

Sarah Walker awoke with a start. Her asset was dreaming and it must have been horrific because he was gasping for breath and muttering things she couldn't understand.

She signaled a medic to bring her a damp towel and she washed Chuck's face, carefully avoiding the bruises she'd inflicted in her panic. '_Not your finest hour, Walker, you'll be lucky to stay in the Agency after this screw-up. He's more important than you and yet you violated protocols and went in after him knowing your actions were foolhardy. You feel something for him, admit it. For the first time in forever, you actually care about another human being. Well, la-dee-dah. Miracles do happen.'_

Residential Hotel

Burbank, CA

Instead of taking him to his apartment she told him he was staying with her while Casey worked on a scenario to explain his injuries and protect his cover. Mostly from his sister.

If it took a few days, that was fine. They could work on their own cover story and their partnership.

She never apologized for her treatment of him the first weeks, but he sensed she was trying to make a fresh start. He'd give her one chance. He'd seen a little of the woman she could be if she would just drop all the damned pretense and stop being so damned self-righteous and superior-acting, the brief glimpse was of a nicer, gentler, less domineering Sarah Walker.

She called Casey and told him they were back and that they'd be in the following day provided Chuck felt up to it. Casey recounted the gist of the meeting with Graham and Beckman and told her that nothing had changed and that they were still a team. And to pass on the atta-boy to Chuck from the General.

"Chuck, Casey says we're still good to go and the General sent you an atta-boy. That means you did very well since she's never one to offer compliments easily. So, tomorrow it's a workday unless you feel another day is required. Take it easy, follow directions and sleep as much as possible. And also, you're to quit the BuyMore and work full time at the Castle, Analyst Bartowski. Full pay and benefits retroactive to the Intersect."

"Congratulations, Chuck, er, Analyst Bartowski". She actually felt happy for him.

"I'm going out to pick up some antibiotic crème they prescribed and some clean dressing material. I'm sure you'll want to shower and I'll need to redress your injuries afterwards. See you in an hour. Sleep, Bartowski, sleep. Do not leave this hotel room, understand?"

She returned and quietly entered the room. He was asleep on his stomach and she could see the gauze bandages covering the sutures. She'd bought plastic wrap, adhesive tape and more materials for the dressings because she knew he would want a shower to feel clean. Something else seemed to untwist in her because she seemed concerned for his welfare as a person, not just as a mark or asset.

'_Something's happening to me and I don't know why but I feel better about myself and not as bitter as I did when Bryce left me and defected to Fulcrum. I lied to Casey, I wasn't over Bryce but I damned sure am now. And the curly-headed geek is responsible. Maybe it's because he dismissed me the first time we met, or maybe it's because he cares about Sarah Walker as a person first, agent second. My respect for Thorne increases everyday. She held off his unconscious advances for four months. I'm crumbling after as many weeks. He doesn't know the effect he has on me. Those eyes…'_

Walker drove him in to the Castle early the next morning. Casey was off for the week (more NSA planted bogus training) and they were working on the plan to pinpoint the distribution from the forwarding facility to some of their destinations. If they could locate and investigate the delivery points they could provide staff and related data for future planned takedowns. By striking several locations simultaneously they could cripple a segment of the Fulcrum network and also arrest defectors. They arranged a teleconference with Graham and Beckman.

"General, the Hive in Los Angeles isn't in Los Angeles at all. Yes, all the delivery points in the L.A. area are a single point but it's a freight forwarding operation. The crates or containers are reloaded onto local vehicles and then transshipped to their local destinations. It's elegant. The local delivery names and locations are substituted for the originals and the original shippers receive notification of L.A. delivery. That's why all the records stop in L.A."

"Fine. But how do we track 'new' shipments from the terminal to the destination?"

"Multiple destinations. Think of letters sent to Southern California towns. They're sorted by the first 3 digits of the zip code and delivered to a processing center when they're further identified and sorted down to their cities or towns of ultimate destination. Our forwarding operation is the processing center. Fulcrum's shipments are then resorted and delivered to their ultimate destination. It may even be a legitimate operation like a drop shipping operation when you order something online."

Casey interrupted. "We'll need to go in, put some Bartowski bug on their computers, download files of all their historical data and then wait for a new delivery of 'mail'. We've already worked out the fine details. Agent Walker has the op plan completed and we're waiting for the nod from you."

"And while we're waiting on the next delivery, Chuck will use the Intersect and our own files and review their closed files and summarize deliver locations. NSA/CIA teams can go in and roll them up all at the same time."

"Catch them with their knickers down, all locations, simultaneously. They won't know what hit them and best of all, no trail of breadcrumbs back to us here in Burbank."

"You have a go. Agent Walker, email Graham and I copies of the op plan. I'll review and send approvals once Director Graham gives his approval."

**Castle Armory**

Chuck grinned and slapped Casey on the shoulder. "Time for another installment of 'Bartowski shoots his toe off', Casey. You promised."

Chuck had convinced Casey to teach him basic firearms handling. His rationale was that whether his handlers liked it or not, the world they operated in was a dangerous one and he needed to be able to defend himself if they were down or unavailable. His logic could not be beaten and Casey knew it. He also knew he never intended to be taken alive as long as the Intersect was in his head.

Unfortunately, Sarah had taken issue with his choice of instructors. While Casey was back in the armory selecting weapons, Sarah pinned Chuck down in the kitchenette as he was pouring himself some of the sludge Casey claimed was coffee.

"Chuck, why did you go to Casey instead of coming to me? You know I can hit anything I can see. I should be the one teaching you how to handle weapons, not Casey."

"I don't want Casey feeling like he's hired muscle or being left out of 'handling' me, Agent. He was always there, especially after Thorne left. He ran interference with the Big Wigs and got me new handlers when the others were, um, not suitable. And besides, you pinch and punch when I don't do things your way and I have the bruises to prove it."

"Oh. I see. That makes sense. That's sweet of you to worry about his feelings when you consider he probably doesn't see it that way. And I haven't pinched or punched you since Stockton. You finally came around to my way of thinking, well, as close as you probably can get to 'normal'." She said the last with a little smile he hadn't seen before.

An exasperated Casey walked out of the shooting range and shook his head. "Walker, maybe you should try and get the idiot to hit something. I sure as hell can't. He knows safety and handling just fine. He cannot maintain a sight picture worth crap. And he jerks the damned trigger and he's managed to hit the ceiling more times than the back berm. I give up. Maybe he should just _throw _the damned pistol at them."

Sarah laughed and then nodded. "Well, a punch or a pinch has worked in the past. But I think that approach is long past. I'll try something different and then we'll see. 'Jerks' the trigger? He's uncomfortable around weapons, isn't he? That's the challenge."

Casey pointed to the range door. "Have at it, super spy. He has all the mechanics down pat; he just doesn't handle the actual shooting process well. He's not stupid; he knows what to do. At least he keeps his eyes open now. That's an improvement."

"Hey, Chuck. Casey says to throw the pistol at the enemy. What do you think?" She really wanted this to work. She wanted to build the trust between them. They were sharing the same bed and he was tremendously uncomfortable around her. That had to change.

"I think maybe he's right. I just cannot get the sight picture maintained when I fire the damned thing. I'm not an idiot, Agent, I've fired guns before, but I don't think I hit anything then, either."

"OK, show me your stance. That's good, your feet are a little too far apart and the shooting foot should be just few inches in front of the back foot. Release the magazine and clear the pistol and try dry-firing a few times with the new stance."

"Fine, now take your stance and hold it." She put a dime on the flat surface behind the front sight. "Now, dry fire your weapon. Every time the dime falls off tells me you're jerking the trigger. Think of… caressing a lover's nipple…you don't 'twang' it, do you? Well, OK, maybe _you _do but you shouldn't… believe me. Now go ahead and try it."

She smiled and almost laughed at the look on his face when she said 'caressing…' and his face turned so red and ruddy she thought he was going to hyperventilate. She had found at least one way of getting his attention.

Chuck was horribly embarrassed. He knew his face was bright red and he could feel the heat radiating from it. Damn her. It was bad enough 'sharing' her bed until the stitches were out and he could explain his 'absence' to an increasingly vocal sister, but now she had to put that thought in his mind.

He almost turned and told her 'no one, not even Thorne had complained about his technique' but figured this was one time silence would work.

He pulled the trigger and then bent to pick up the dime. Sarah just giggled. A first time for everything. She replaced the dime. And he pulled the trigger and then bent to pick up the dime again. He refused to acknowledge the pulling of his sutures when he did it. He ignored the pain and just kept on pulling and bending.

"Chuck, you need to squeeze the trigger gently. Here give me the pistol and you stand behind me and mimic everything I do. Get close so you can feel the stance and the way my hand is on the weapon. Put your hand over mine and your finger over mine on the trigger. Ready? Feel how I squeeze the trigger. It's almost a surprise when the weapon fires. |CLICK| There, see? Were you surprised?"

"Yeah, I get it now. Let me try again. Piece of cake." Sarah snorted but handed him the weapon and stepped back behind him. He pulled the trigger and the dime didn't fall.

"Hey, I did it." His face fell when he saw her face. She looked so sad.

"What's wrong, Agent Walker. I did it."

"Chuck, I'm so sorry. I didn't think. I didn't think. I'm so sorry." She turned and ran from the range.

He cleared the weapon, secured it in the armory and went in search of his suddenly absent handler.

"Casey, you seen Walker? She ran out of there like someone had scratched her Porsche."

"She left. Don't know where she's off to. Check the outside monitor and see if she's in her car."

As Chuck turned to the monitor Casey saw the back of his t-shirt. There were several hand-sized bloodstains. "Looks like you pulled a couple stitches out, Chuck. Let me take a look."

"Yep, got both shoulders. Must have been doing a lot of bending and reaching." Chuck told him about the dime thing. Casey was impressed. "I never would have thought of that. I'll remember that. She's right on the money."

"So where is she, Casey?"

"She's leaning against her car, Chuck. You better go talk to her. We'll clean you up when you bring her back down, OK?"

Chuck ran up the stairs and out to parking area where Sarah was leaning against her car with her face in her hands.

"Agent Walker, it's no big deal. Please, uh, Sarah, turn and look at me. I'm fine, really, just pulled a stitch or two. But it was worth it if I can defend myself. Let's go back down and work on it some more, please?"

She shook her head. She wouldn't look at him. She couldn't.

He turned her to him and pried her hands from her face. She'd been crying. He pulled her into a hug and whispered softly, "Hey, a little blood but so much progress. Now stop the tears, please? I hate seeing you cry, especially when I know it's my fault. Please. You've been upfront with me, taken care of me, kept me from the 'wrath of Ellie'. I owe you. So quit crying."

She slowly put her arms around him and buried her face in his shirt. "I let you get hurt, then I hurt you in the container, then I was careless and you're hurt again today. I can't do this. I don't know how to deal with you. You should be angry but you're not. You should be looking for a new handler. I just can't do this. I don't have the skill set to be 'nice'. It's not who I am."

"Then why, Sarah Walker, are you crying? If you didn't care you wouldn't be crying. You wouldn't care enough. So, what's that say? You've been nothing but 'nice' to me since Stockton. Or was that just guilt?"

She shook her head. And then nodded her head. "I don't know, maybe it's guilt but it's also remorse. I feel bad you got hurt and seeing the blood brought it all back, that horrible container, no air, hot…"

"Shhh. Let's go to the beach, Sarah, for real. We'll swing by your place and you can display your skills and clean this mess up and change. Then we'll go by my place and pick up some clean clothes. I want you to be real with me, relaxed and able to be yourself, have some fun, lose the stick up your fanny." He knew this was dangerous ground. He didn't need a pissed-off Walker on his case.

"Ok, we'll do that. As for the stick, I think it's been there forever and it's permanent. Sorry. I don't have 'fun', either. It's been drummed out of me by the Agency training and experience. But I'd like to see where you call home and maybe meet this demented person you call Ellie. She can't be all that bad."

Sarah had a brief flash of Chuck and her, her wearing his unbuttoned shirt and him bare-chested in boxers, laughing while feeding each other Chinese take-out from cartons while sitting on her rumpled hotel bed. She shivered and then shook her head. _'Where the hell did that come from?'_

Fortunately, the demented person named Ellie wasn't home. Chuck breathed a sigh of relief and Agent Walker just giggled. He noticed she'd done that a few times, probably something she wasn't even aware of.

He threw his clothes into a bag, left a note for Ellie telling her he had a new job with the government and would be gone a week for training. He'd call her. Walker was sitting on the couch just taking in all the normalcy. _'So this is how normal people live?'_

He went into the bathroom and pulled off his shirt and jumped into the shower. The odor of dried blood was not pleasant. The sting of the water on his back and the fact that no huge amounts of blood were staining the shower tiles confirmed it was just a few stitches. He'd need to have them dressed again but figured to hell with it. He was going to the beach and the sun would do them good. He grabbed a blanket and a towel and went out to the living room.

"Ready, Agent Walker? Had enough of the ambience of Casa Bartowski"?

"It's nice. Comfortable. Pleasant. Must be nice to come home to a real home instead of a room in a hotel or an empty apartment." She looked at Chuck and then smiled, wanly. "The life of a spy is hardly glamorous or exciting. A lot of it is drudgework. A lot of waiting and then moments when you question your choices in life. Like now, for instance. It would be nice to have a normal job with a normal guy waiting at home for a normal night."

Chuck didn't know what to say so he didn't say anything. It seemed safest. Her mood was strange and unsettling, like she'd opened up a door to a room no one ever saw.

"Sand and surf, Agent Walker, after you." He gestured to the door. She laughed. "Sand and surf, _Sarah._ Agent Walker is off-duty until further notice."

He waited in the car while she grabbed her 'beach things' and spent a little bit of time at his mountain pass.

'_He was standing in his high mountain pass feeling the cold from the winds and the crunching snow under his boots. His ice axe dangled from one wrist and he adjusted his goggles enjoying the scene as the sun's terminator line raced across the glacier that melted into the lake in the valley below.'_ He could hear his teacher's voice, "_you know better. The guoi-fan is not to be used for your enjoyment." _

He jerked when Sarah opened the car door. "Wow, I didn't mean to leave the A/C on so cold. It's freezing in here." She reached over to shut off the A/C but it wasn't even on.

"Chuck, what just happened here?" She'd left the keys in the car but knew he hadn't started it. "Chuck, please, trust me, please?"

"OK, but you have to listen and accept, no questions until I'm done. And then if you're still not satisfied, I'll give you a demonstration. OK?" She nodded her head, suddenly wishing she hadn't asked.

"I worked for a holistic therapist when I was at Stanford. I needed spending money because a full-ride didn't cover such things as beer and bettys. The woman took a liking to me and taught me things, like massage therapy that I used to make more money, but eventually I stopped spending and started learning."

"It was a whole new world to me, Agent Wal – I mean, Sarah. She called me 'scholar' although I think that was sarcasm on her part. She tried to teach me about guoi-fan, which is the act of relocating one's _chi_ to a desired place. That's what I was doing while you were getting your stuff. I relocated or disconnected from here and went there. I must have gone farther than I have in years. Once, I 'came back' coated in ice. Man, did she give me hell for that."

Sarah just stared at him, her eyes as big as saucers as the impact of what he told her struck home. The container. That's what he did for her in the container.

"Ch-Chuck, in Stockton, the beach, that was this fooey gan?"

"Guoi-fan, Sarah." He laughed. "Yes, it was that. It calmed you down and gave you peace for a bit, didn't it? And you came back all right, no missing parts, right?"

She just nodded her head in an exaggerated motion, eyes still big as saucers. And she thought she'd be bored on this assignment.

"You OK with this? I mean I can do other stuff, true, but I'm not one of those Eastern Mystics like you see on television. I'm just a regular guy who learned about things not often taught, that's all. So don't go all weird on me."

She started the car and rolled down the window and looked over at him. "Why now, Chuck, why go there now? Do I bore you that much?"

"Oh, no. Well, I was bored just sitting but no, being with you is certainly not boring. At least not so far. Just don't ask me to go shopping for shoes or some other girly thing. I'll be an ice berg in no time."

She popped him on the upper arm. "Ouch, asset abuse, asset abuse!" She giggled and then reached over and kissed where she hit him. "See, all better now." He just glared at her rubbing his arm in mock injury. "Sez you."

Chuck spread the blanket and put the cooler with their water under one corner and then took off his sweats but left his t-shit on. No sense freaking out the Agent. He'd just enjoy the heat of the …whoa!

Sarah had taken off her jeans and t-shirt and was standing there watching the surf in a bikini that hardly fit on someone a lot less…curvaceous was the only word Chuck could think of. An iridescent lime green bikini. More like a bik. Or ini.

She glanced over at him and smirked. Finally, a male reaction. A very nice reaction, too.

"Chuck, can you help me put on this lotion? I don't want to turn into a lobster. I don't tan all that well anyway. Nordic blood will tell. Not much sun in Sweden." She lay down on her stomach and pulled her ponytail to one side. "This better be SPF1000, Sarah. The California sun is brutal."

"Well, then rub it in well, asset. Make yourself useful." She laughed and then sighed as his fingertips rubbed the crème into her skin. She could get used to this. Sun, surf, boytoy… she giggled again.

"Care to share?"

"No. I don't share."

He finished her back and started on her legs. Such nice, muscular legs. Oh, man, he was in trouble. Remember Robin and keep it professional. This one was a heartbreaker and probably his lifetaker as well. He knew that when the new intersect was on-line he'd definitely be off-line. His mind started considering possibilities.

"Earth to Chuck. You still here or someplace cool and wintry?" She looked at him over her shoulder. He was miles away and from the look on his face where ever he was wasn't pleasant.

"Yeah, sorry, thinking about something. All done here. Go ahead and toast yourself."

"Aren't you going to take off that t-shirt? You look warm. A little sun helps the healing."

"Fine, but the first time someone screams 'scars, sutures, OH MY GOD' and I'm out of here."

He took off the t-shirt and lay down on his stomach. He'd had a good tan and the cuts and stitches stood out against his tan. The sun felt good on his back and legs.

Sarah leaned up and was examining his stitches. She could see where several, most in the middle of the cut, had pulled loose and bled. The doctors had to cut them out in a few instances and she could only imagine how his butt must feel '_and look, admit it, and look.'_

She started to doze off when Chuck nudged her and handed her a freezing cold water bottle. "Chuck, these are really cold. How did you…Oh, no you didn't. Tell me you did not send your butt someplace just to chill the water? What happens if you get lost, or it's dark and you fall or there's a war going on… please, don't do this when I'm around. It scares the shit out of me."

Well, that was certainly an honest reaction. "Nope, I put dry ice in the cooler before we left. I wouldn't drop out on you here. Too messy if I didn't make it back intact. Once an old monk went somewhere and all that came back were his legs, and they looked like they were _bitten_ off." He was lying but she didn't know it. Messing with her mind was such fun when Agent Walker was off-duty and he wished he'd had a camera to catch the look on her face.

"That's not true. No one bit him in half. That's so Bartowski it reeks. Quit messing with my mind, asset. I know over 100 ways to kill you without leaving a trace." She was teasing but suddenly wished she hadn't joked about killing. "Chuck, I was just kidding." She put her hand on his forearm and he started to pull away from he and get up.

"You're going to burn, Agent Walker, and it's time to call this tanning session to a halt for today. Now that you know which beach to use I imagine you'll look like Ellie before too long. And the sun will whiten your Nordic hair even more." He pulled on his t-shirt and slipped into his huaraches and stood up, offering her his hand.

"Chuck, what did I say that made you so mad, sad, hell, I don't know. Weren't you enjoying us being together even a little?"

"You know I've been told, repeatedly, that when the 'new Intersect' is completed that I'll be 'removed'. I just forget it sometimes and then something comes up, and it's back in the front of my head instead of buried under things I don't want to think or worry about."

"Sorry to dampen your mood. You are getting a bit red there so it's best to quit while you're still able to move. When you get back home, shower in warm water and sluice off as much as your can and then put some lotion on it. Any lotion keeps the skin moist so it doesn't stiffen, crack and then peel."

"And yes, I've enjoyed this time together a lot but I think I need to get going. I've taken up too much of your time anyway. I'm sure you have spy reports and handler reports and other espionage-related duties. So, Agent Walker, can you just drop me off at the Castle or the apartment I'd appreciate it."

"No, no way. You're staying with me and I'm taking care of you. It's my job, Chuck. So just let me do my job, please?"

'_Well, Chuck old man, you're her 'job'. You're like a letter to be typed, a form to be completed, an asset to be protected, a dumb ass who thinks he… You're just a job.'_

She saw the sudden sadness and regret pass over his face like a wave and then it was gone, replaced with indifference. _'Does he really want to go to the Castle or that apartment that badly? Do I make him that uncomfortable? We're back to Agent Walker now. He appreciates you doing your job. Taking care of him. "…I'm taking care of you. It's my job." Oh, that's a great thing to say, Sarah. No wonder he's indifferent all of a sudden.'_

"Chuck, hang on a minute. I got to make a call. I forgot and it'll be my ass if I don't check in. Go ahead to the car and I'll catch up." She threw him the keys and he walked up the beach towards the Porsche.

"Graham, secure."

"Walker, secure. Director, were you aware that Bartowski was told that when the new Intersect computer came on-line that it was his handler's job to 'put him down'? And are you aware that he is near a nervous breakdown from the stress of doing what we demand and the knowledge that at any minute his handlers might get the order to terminate him?"

There was silence on the other end lasting 10 seconds while Graham weighed and measured alternative actions, disadvantages and advantages.

She heard a ragged sigh and her heart skipped a beat. "Sarah, the new Intersect computer blew up and killed the remaining participants in the Omaha Project. It was sabotaged by Fulcrum. I don't see us getting the funding for the continuation of research and programming. I think Bartowski is the only game in town. You have to win him over, Sarah, using any means available to you. We can't have the Intersect going nuts on us. He's shown too much potential and he's performed better than some agents."

"He's here with me and I'll keep him with me until Casey finalizes the cover story. Director, what do I tell him? I need your assurance that if I tell him the sanction's been removed that it has been. He won't, no, he can't trust us. We've lost that with him and I don't know how long it will take to restore it. But that will be the first step. And Beckman has to agree. Both of you. Maybe during a briefing."

"Good idea, because you're the only one who has been able to reach him. You and Casey are good for him, even Beckman agrees. Continue the mission, Agent Walker."

"Yes, sir. Thanks for listening." The call ended and she felt much better. Now she had to convince Chuck that there was a new game and he was a major player. For once, she could tell the whole truth and not hold anything back. It was a new and novel experience for her.

"Chuck, I just got off the phone with Graham. The Intersect project is gone, sabotaged physically and in Congress. There is no more Intersect project, no more Project Omaha, it's all gone. You're the Intersect, Chuck, with a capital 'I' and they won't consider a sanction because it would be like blinding them. You're free from sanction, Chuck and they'll tell you in a briefing. I'm so happy for you."

He just looked at her. He didn't believe a word of it. Oh, he believed that she really believed it, but deep down inside, he was certain it was just another lie to keep him productive until the hammer fell.

"Let's go home. We have some things to talk about and I need to make sure I understand all you've told me. I know things you don't, no, things you can't possibly have had access to. I want your thoughts and advice. You and Casey are all I have to depend on, to keep the wheels on the Bartowski wagon."

"Casey, secure."

"Beckman, secure. Major Casey, there will be a change in the intersect status and it's going to affect your team. The Intersect program is dead both financially and physically. Fulcrum sabotaged the operation and lives were lost. Bartowski is the only game in town and we've learned that his mental stability is in jeopardy because of the supposed sanction order issued and pending on the completion of the Intersect."

"Casey, you and Walker are all that stand between Chuck and the deep hole in the ground. Keep him focused and calm until Graham and I can meet with him and assure him of his safety – as far as sanctions are concerned."

"My concern remain the defections. Director Graham agrees with me that it is of paramount importance. We're attaching a NSA strike team to Team Bartowski. They're to be used as you and or Agent Walker see fit. You're going independent on this one, John. No guidance from home base. Watch your ass and watch out for your team."

"There has already been an assassination attempt on Graham and we're beefing up security and going dark here for a bit. We'll be in contact as soon as a new command base has been established. These are dire times, Major. There is more going on than meets the eye."

Damn, he hated Beckman and her damned qualifiers. Either Chuck was safe or he wasn't. What was so damned hard about just making the statement? Fucking suits and brass hats. Never in the field but they have all the answers.

"Walker, secure."

"Casey, secure. Report to the Castle immediately. Bring Chuck. Don't let him out of your sight. If he uses the head, hold it for him. This is a code word situation, Sarah. Bring him in."

"Casey, I just talked to Graham. The Intersect is done. Sabotaged by Fulcrum. Chuck's the only game in town. What's going on? I won't bring him in if you're just going to kill him or send him down that dark hole."

"Jesus, Sarah, the kid's safe with us. We have new orders, a new status and we're going to be augmented. I need you guys here to plan and prepare. He's my friend, Sarah, don't ever tell him, but he is and I don't screw over my friends."

"On our way, Casey. Chuck, do you need to use the bathroom, honey?" She hung up on a laughing Casey. Walker would do just fine. He didn't think she'd caught his snarky comment. Strange times.

Chuck looked at his handler like she'd grown another head. He just sighed and continued walking to the Porsche. Women. He would never understand them if he lived 2 lifetimes.

Sarah was giggling and running to catch up with her asset. She was so happy and she hadn't felt this way in a long time. Chuck stopped and unlocked her car door and turned to hand her the keys. She'd stopped inches from him and was looking up at him with the strangest expression on her face.

She kissed him. A warm, wet kiss that ended with her sighing and then burying her face in his chest and laughing. "I'm so damned happy for you, Chuck. Now let's go see what Casey's all excited about. Chuck, honey, you have to let me go to drive."

He leaned down and put his cheek to hers and whispered, "If making you happy gets me kissed like that, I have a new goal in life. You've been warned, Agent Sarah Walker." He found her lips and kissed her as he'd been shown all those years ago. He sent warmth and caring and perhaps the smallest bit of love through into her. He knew it had worked because she deepened the kiss, her tongue fluttered against his lips and she moaned a sweet delicious 'ohhhhhhh' as he broke the kiss and smiled down at her. "Can you drive?"

It was a legitimate question for at that moment if she'd moved she would have had an orgasm for sure.

"Sarah, don't tease me and don't use me. Don't tell me one thing and then pull a Thorne. I won't let that happen to me again. So understand, if you want to continue this to a mutually satisfying conclusion, wonderful, and if not, I'm OK with that. Just don't _play_ me."

Her mouth moved, she was sure of it, but nothing came out. She just looked up at him and nodded her head 'yes'.

When they arrived at the Castle Casey had briefing packages for each of them that Beckman had emailed to him. Chuck's was considerably thinner than the agents.

"Chuck, here's the way it has to be. One of us is with you at all times, 24/7. Beckman's freaking out that your identity might be known to one of the defectors so it's either that or secure detention. Personally, I think detention is not viable because of the defections. No one knows who to trust or who's Fulcrum. It's paralyzing the operations nationally but not locally. We're independent as of 1500 hours. We're getting an NSA Strike Team and will be relocating to a Citadel or Fortress facility within the week."

"Chuck's been staying with me until we can develop the Ellie-cover so that's no problem. The big problem is still the defections."

"I think we should go with the infiltration of the Freight Forwarding facility. It's still our best option."

"When is the NSA team arriving?" Chuck wondered where the hell they'd put them.

"They're not coming here, we're going to the Citadel in San Pedro and hook up there. It's our new home base within the week. We'll need to plan our op and get in and get out tomorrow night. Let's get started on the details."

They spent the remainder of the day figuring and refiguring the op plan. When they were done, Chuck had questions and no one was in the mood to hear them.

"I need to be inside to check out their servers and figure out where to plant our spoofs and relays. I don't see an internet connection so they're either using dial-up which is doubtful or they are on satellite since they have proprietary servers. We can copy their backups and have their history to work with also."

"Chuck, you stay in the van. Safety first. You'll have to direct us using the vid-cams. Sorry but it's the way it has to be."

"Damn it, that's not right. I have the knowledge and skill set and can get it done a lot faster than you two ham-handed non-technical people. I have to go in. Casey and I ran a similar op without any problems and there were just two of us to provide security for one another."

"Well, it's the _three_ of us, now, _Mr_. Bartowski, and only two of us are agents. Get used to staying in the truck. You're not setting foot in a potentially hot area until I've secured it and it's 100% safe. There are no shortcuts where your safety is concerned. Live with it." Sarah was not letting him in unless it was secure and safe and this place was anything but.

It was her job. He was her job. She would not fail him.

"You have no voice in the matter. You have no choice. You are along for the ride. Your abilities are what matter and your safety is the most important thing to us. The matter is closed. That's the final word and unless we have any credible objections, I think we're done here, right, Casey?"

Chuck just glared at his handlers. "You're adding at least an hour to the mission clock with your stubborn refusal to let me help. You think those people are just going to go home at 5? It's a 18 hour operation and you can never tell when a truck might come in and the help shows up to unload it."

"That's the risk we have to take. 'We', meaning Casey and I. You're in the van."

Chuck went back to the kitchenette and poured out the last of the sludge into a dirty cup and added sugar. His stitches were itching and he knew from sad experience that was a sign they needed removed.

He took out his cell phone and called home – as if he really had his own 'home'.

Sarah watched him from the door. She was irritated with him. Once again he had fought her and Casey, as if he knew more than they about what it was they needed to do. Her thoughts went back two weeks to her conversation with Graham. She really wasn't cut out to be a babysitter and that's what Chuck required when he was in his rebellious moods.

"I need to get these stitches out. I called Ellie but she's working but Devon's there and he said he'd be glad to help. I got the cover story down pat. I guess I'll see you later either here or at your hotel room. I'm going to catch a cab, Sarah, so you professionals just take your time figuring out how to do in an hour what I can do in 10 minutes."

"Chuck, wait…" but he'd already pushed past her, hands into his pockets, head still down, and left the Castle and walked over to the taxi stand across the parking lot.

She pulled up the external monitor to see where he was heading. She dialed his iPhone number and watched as the image took the phone out, pushed some keys and replaced the phone in its pocket. Her call went directly to voicemail.

'_Damn that man! Doesn't he realize that the safety of the nation rests on what's between those ears of his? "Ham-handed?" How hard does he think it is to do what he tells us? I just don't understand how he can be concerned for the 'mission' but ignore the larger picture. Idiot.'_

'_Well, maybe it's because he's concerned about the people on the mission, not just the mission. You read the after-action reports. You read about what happened when Thorne went down and he was not yet emotionally invested like you are. It's your attitude that's suspect. He needs to be able to do his job, Agent, and to protect his team – something you're just not used to when on an operation. He's not Bryce, he won't send you into a killing zone for expediency's sake. He'd go himself, first.'_

Casa Bartowski

Chuck paid the taxi driver and walked through the courtyard and unlocked the apartment door and called for Devon. He didn't see the Porsche pull up a distance away and turn off its engine. His handler was watching her asset. She'd never been more than a few yards from him and wouldn't be until he was back in her zone of protection.

He used his key and opened the front door and called out for Devon.

"Hey, Chuck. One minute. Let me get my bag."

Chuck moved into the kitchen and checked out the coffee situation and helped himself to a cup. "So, where you been keeping yourself, almost-bro? Got some sweet thing stashed away in some hidden love nest?" Devon rambled on and on and Chuck never responded.

"Lose the duds, Chuck. Let's see what those ER mechanics did to you. Whoa, man, those are going to be pretty big scars. Sure sucks to be you, Chuck. We'll do the butt first then work our way up. From the looks of things these are pretty much healed and this is the optimum time to take out the threads."

Ten minutes and a few terse comments later Devon announced that he was 'thread free' and to avoid anymore 'accidents'.

"Chuck, you never answered my question. Where you been hiding?"

"Well, there's this girl and…" he stammered and hemmed and hawed hoping Devon would fill in the blanks and relate his version to Ellie.

"Say no more, Chuck. Man secret." He laughed and high-fived Chuck.

"Thanks, Devon. I got to get back to work. Catch you later."

"So what's with this new job with the government you're so hush-hush about? What are you, some kind of spy or something?"

"Or _**something**_. Thanks again, man. I have got to get back to work."

He was dialing the taxi company for a ride back to the Castle when he saw Sarah's Porsche pull in beside the curb. She got out and leaned over the roof, watching him. Why was she here? There were things to be done with mission planning and preparations. He could have caught a cab. No big deal. He was just going to crash at the Castle in one of the detention cells, seemed appropriate, somehow.

As he walked closer he saw her face was tight with anger. Since he'd been the perfect little 'handled' he felt no concern for _his_ well-being.

"Mr. Bartowski, please get in the car." She got in and slammed her door and pushed his open. He got in and looked over at her but she was just gripping the steering wheel tightly and staring straight ahead. She was waiting for something.

"Seatbelt, Mr. Bartowski." What the hell is her problem? 'Mr. Bartowski?' Some one must have crapped on her day.

He put on his seatbelt and she roared away from the curb. If she wasn't going to talk, then neither was he. She was the one in a funk. All he did was get his stitches removed and ignore her voice mail. He didn't want to have to deal with the 'it has to be this way' scenario.

If she was trying to frighten him into talking it wasn't going to work. He just closed his eyes and thought about a high mountain pass, the crunch of his boots in the snow and the cold crisp air in his lungs. His ice pick hung from one wrist and he adjusted his goggles, watching the terminator line of the sun marching across the glacier. The sound of the sea gulls …huh?

He opened his eyes and saw that she'd driven them to the beach. This was the place he did his thinking and his decision-making but mostly his thinking. It was also the place he came to watch the surf when the storms off the coast created the huge swells that rolled into the shoreline shallows and became waves. He'd wanted to share this place with her and that's why he'd suggested it earlier.

She got out of the car and started walking down the boardwalk to the beach. He shrugged and followed her. At least she was wearing sensible shoes, not those spiked heeled leather boots she mostly wore.

She'd obviously given this some thought since she had a rolled up blanket under on arm. His phone vibrated and he saw it was Ellie and he let it go to voicemail. He'd deal with sister angst later.

Looking up and down the beach, she finally stopped, spread the blanket and sat down, her legs up against her chest and her arms wrapped around her legs. Pensive Sarah was a new thing so he sat, watched and listened.

Ten minutes went by like a snail crawling across a sidewalk so Chuck again went to his mountain pass…

"Are you even listening to me?"

"Huh? What?" He'd been gone for a while, apparently. He'd have to watch that. Lately he'd lost hours to his mountain pass. It was beginning to creep him out.

"I've been explaining some things to you and you haven't heard a single thing I've said, have you?"

"No. I sat here for 10 minutes waiting for you to say something and then I disconnected. I went someplace else. I was bored. I'm sorry. Would you start again, please?"

"If I tell you something will you believe me?" She would at least try.

"Probably not. I'd like to believe that everything you say to me is true but I know that's just not possible. I know you're frightened and you think I'm your anchor because of the brief peace I brought you in Stockton but you don't need me. You're strong enough, on your own. You don't need anyone, Sarah. You certainly don't need me."

"Then I'll tell you things and hope you chose to believe the important things. How's that?"

"Go ahead. It's your beach, Agent Walker, ma'am."

"OK, I – I – I think I may love you. I know it doesn't seem like enough time but I do. I've had this 'perfect man' image since I was young. A Paladin. A strong figure, secure in his own skin, and willing to share his soul with me. And before you say it, before you even _think_ it, yes, I have a soul. I have a soul and you touched it, I felt it and it was like coming home, Chuck, and finding something I didn't even know I'd lost."

"I am you, your mirror image maybe. But I – I – oh, hell, ever since Stockton I've felt this growing emotion for you. I think, no, I believe, that I love you. And you are my anchor for now. And that doesn't mean that when I no longer need you as my anchor that I won't still need your as my man just as I hope you'll always need me as your woman."

"Chuck. There is no 'put down' order. I checked and checked. They need you. You're lucky you're not in Nevada underground because losing you scares the shit out of them. That's the burden you didn't want to add to, wasn't it? Me loving the man I have to kill. Right?"

"That's why Thorne left, you know, the real reason. She knew then that she would be called on to do it and she couldn't handle the thought any more than I could. That's the burden, isn't it?"

"Yes." She had to strain to hear him. He'd said it so softly.

"Sarah, I'd make a lousy spy. I couldn't tell them one thing and mean another. I couldn't dangle hope and then snatch it away. I couldn't demand obedience and loyalty and not be loyal also."He turned and looked at her, boring into her soul.

"I couldn't tell someone I loved them and not mean it."

"If those are the qualities you were looking for to love, then I suppose I am your Paladin. But you have to know, in the very inner most part of whoever you really are, that I would require those same qualities in someone I loved."

"Then, Chuck, I'll just have to show you my inner Paladin. And make you see me as I really am."

"I want to go home now, Chuck. Will you come with me, stay with me, be with me? Please? Is that OK with you?"

"It'll do for now. We could both be dead after this op, or worse."

"What could possibly be worse, Chuck?"

"If you died and I didn't. That would be the worst thing I could think of."

"Then you'll just have to take care of me like I'm going to take care of you." She leaned over and kissed him quickly.

"Let's go home, Chuck. And don't zone out on me on the way home. I thought you'd died. Hardly breathing and no movement at all. I don't frighten easily but losing you now that I've found you, well, that terrifies me like nothing ever has."

Residential Hotel

1 AM

"Ohhhhh, my God, Chuck, ooooo, yes, right there, harder, baby, harder, I won't break. Oh, yes, oh yessssss. Oh, Chuck, Chuck, Chuck, that hurts so good."

Sarah Walker was in one of the lower levels of heaven. While she'd taken a shower Chuck had prowled around her bathroom and found a bottle of massage oil that she'd been carrying around, unopened, for as long as she could remember. Well, it was open now.

"Where did you learn to do this, Chuck?"

"I already told you, but you probably thought I was kidding. I worked some for an Asian physical/holistic therapist at Stanford to pay some bills and she taught me this finger tip massage and also the knuckle massage. Neither should be used together but sequentially, one on one day and the other on the next. Something to do with the long muscle groups." She also taught him a lot of other skills that Sarah had no need to know about. Not if he wished to keep his dangling participles attached.

He was kneeling on the bed with her right leg held up straight along his thigh and chest and beside his ear and he was running the fingertips of his right hand down the inside of her leg from the calf to the inner thigh. The pressures were mitigated by the circular motion of his fingertips but the pleasure she derived was mixed with exquisite spikes of pain as he 'straightened' a long-muscle group here and there. The heat of the oil and the heat of his hands were loosening stiff and twisted muscles she didn't even know she had.

He'd already worked on the left leg and as far as she could tell it had fallen off her pelvis sometime after he started working on the right leg. She felt incredibly relaxed and she realized that she'd been in pain for sometime and never recognized it on a conscious level until Chuck's magic fingers had made the pain vanish.

"Sarah, if you've brave enough, roll over and take off you t-shirt and we'll work those muscle groups in your back and thighs.

He put her leg down and she sat up, challenged and responding, and whipped the t-shirt over her head. Chuck blushed when her breasts fell free and the nipples hardened from the cool air. She saw the look on his face as he quickly looked anywhere but at her boobs. God, he was such a guy.

She rolled over on her stomach and Chuck placed her hands under her face and turned her head to the wall. He pushed her ankles together and sat below her buttocks, straddling her thighs. He pushed her pony tail over to one side and studied her back.

"I always had a table for the back but this will have to do. Ummm, don't go getting weird on me, Walker. It's just a massage. You don't have to worry about 'unsolicited behavior'."

'_What if I want unsolicited behavior?'_ She shivered. _'He has no idea what effect those hands have on me. How much I want those hands on me, and not massaging me, either.'_

He put a puddle of oil in his palm to warm it and then rubbed his hands together and began to massage her shoulders and neck being careful not to get the scented oil on her hair.

He worked down the left side, stripping the muscles of their build up of lactic acid and then moved to the right side. He put his hands on either side of her spine just above her pelvis and began long slow strokes upwards and outwards. He found a knot of twisted muscles and worked on it gently until it straightened out.

"Oh, Chuck, that, that's been bothering me since I got here. Oh, thank you. I didn't know how much I hurt until you drove it away. Thank you."

He worked on the tendons in her ankles and behind the knees then up towards her buttocks in long strokes with his fingers digging in slightly and rotating the muscles. Her groans of appreciation made him smile.

"Well, that's it. Tomorrow if you're willing and not too sore we'll do the knuckle massage. It's got a complex name but it's what I remember it being called by Ahn-Zhu."

"I don't think I can move, Chuck. Look down around the foot of the bed on the floor and give me my legs, will you? I think they fell off or something." She giggled but was growing more and more mellow by the moment and drowsy, too.

"I think I need a nap. I can't move so a nap will fill the time. Come here, you big cuddle-buddy and hold me and sleep."

"Nope. I need to shower. This oil will turn colors on my hands if I don't get it off."

"You mean I need to shower? I can't feel anything from the tits down and you expect me to take a shower? You're smoking crack or something."

"No. The oils do something chemically with the natural oils in my palms. A few people get blisters, some get hives, some, like me, have a different reaction. My palms and fingers turn orange. Something to do with endocrine secretions or some such crap. I'm an engineer not a endocrinologist so I didn't pay any attention."

"Thank God you paid attention to the techniques though. You had a good teacher."

"Well, she tried, I'll give her that. She was an incredible woman. So alive, so bright and shiny. Never a hair out of place. Beautiful in her own way. She came here from Tibet when the troubles first started over there."

Sarah felt the green-eyed monster rearing its jealous head. "Is this someone I should be concerned about? A sexy mystic who had my man in his younger years?" She was joking but suddenly uncomfortable with this old flame.

"Ahn-Zhu looked to be well into her late 40s when I came along." That wasn't a lie. She did look 40 even though she was at least in her 80s or more. Still she had managed to keep both her looks and figure and only told Chuck her real age when he had to quit and return to Burbank. He'd been shocked speechless and she'd kissed him goodbye one last time and he never saw her again. He heard she'd returned to Tibet.

"You're the first one I've given a massage to since Stanford."

"Not even Robin?" Oops. Open mouth insert foot.

"Nope. Never had the inclination to share or cared enough to go through all the hassles before."

"Good answer, lover boy. Now go shower and then we'll nap and then we'll go out for breakfast, my treat.

"Start without me. It takes a while to get rid of the oil. Don't want orange palms. Freaks people out."

When he was done in the shower he went over to his bag to pull out clean boxers but the bag was empty. He opened a drawer and found his clothes folded and put away. Apparently the living arrangements were moving toward permanent at least until the move to San Pedro.

Pulling on his boxers and forsaking the t-shirt he got into the bed on his usual far side and realized that he could lie on his back, his other side or his stomach since the stitches were gone.

He slipped quietly into the bed not wanting to wake Sarah. Her Chuckdar proximity system detected him and even asleep she flung herself on him and burrowed in as closely as she could, exactly like she did in the container, sighing with contentment.

'_I could get used to this. It's not going to last. She'll do what Robin did and then I'll have a new handler and the cycle will repeat itself.' _He sighed and tried to sleep, ignoring the warm and soft body of his handler. The scent of the massage oil still clung to her. _Cuddle-buddy my ass_ was his last conscious thought before sleep took him.

She woke up some time during the night and found he'd rolled away from her. She missed his warmth. She pulled herself even closer to him and let out a ragged sigh and closed her eyes, happier than she'd been in months, maybe years. Happier than she'd ever been with Bryce, and she hadn't known this man nearly as long as she'd known Larkin.

Chuck heard the sigh that followed Sarah taking an even tighter grip on him. While he didn't mind the closeness, in fact he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so…comfortable in the arms of a woman, he wondered how it all had come about.

He put his free arm around her and drew her close and dozed off to sleep, his face in her hair and his mind slowly coming to grips with his new reality and her place in it. He would be her Paladin until she left.

_He could hear her screaming for him but no matter where he looked, no matter how close he got, she was always just the next container away. The last container had been turned on its side and the door was sprung open on its hinges. He crawled in and she was lying under some wooden crates that hadn't been properly secured. Her legs were twisted into unnatural angles and blood bubbled up on her lips with each exhalation._

'_You came. I knew you would. Lie down beside me and hold me while I die. I'm so afraid, Chuck. Hold me, please. Just a little while longer and then you can go.'_

Sarah woke up to his soft moans and trembling. Shit. Another dream. "Chuck, Chuck. Wake up, Chuck. It's OK. You're safe. Please. Wake up."

"Ahhhh, don't die, Sarah. I'm sorry." He was talking in his sleep, still in the dream.

"Chuck, damn it, wake up, it's a dream. It's not real." She knew when he woke because his breathing changed.

"You listen to me, Chuck Bartowski, and listen good. There is no order to kill you. The Intersect Computer Project is dead. Fulcrum sabotaged the unit and killed most of the technicians and programmers and all the remaining Project Omaha candidates."

"Believe it because it's true, damn you. I'm not lying to you. I can't lie to you anymore. I won't lie to you. Damn your stubbornness. Things and people change. I'm changing and you're changing. We're together in this. Do you hear me, Chuck?"

He nodded. He didn't trust himself to speak.

Finally, after several moments of silence Sarah asked Chuck the question that had been foremost in her mind since the beach.

"Chuck, could someone like you ever love someone like me?"

"Yes, Sarah. Someone like me could love someone like you. Why?"

"Because I'm here and you're here and nothing happens. Is it, is it because you still love Robin?" She knew she'd said too much when she felt him stiffen up like he was preparing for battle.

"I never loved Robin Thorne. I liked her a helluva lot and maybe loved her in the sense that she was a great friend when I needed one but I never loved her even though she said she loved me. And that's the damned truth of it. She sucked me in, used me, and then went on with her spy career. No harm, Agent Walker, no foul."

"I'm sorry I brought it up. I didn't mean to upset you. I can see it's a raw wound and I know being here is like rubbing salt into it."

"I don't want to be anywhere else, that's the trouble_. _Look at us, Sarah, what there is of 'us;" he sighed bitterly. "I can't even carry on a fucking conversation with the woman I see myself falling in love with, without totally screwing it up. I'd better go." He started to get up. It was almost 5am and he could catch a taxi to the Castle and crash in one of the detention bunks.

"Don't go, please. You aren't screwing anything up, Chuck. It's just me and I know you better than anyone. Talk to me, please. You know when we were in Stockton and I was coming in to get you? You told me not to. I heard my Paladin telling me to be safe and sacrifice him. I knew then that we were going to be together, eventually." '_with the woman I love…' had rocked her world a bit. She'd known Robin Thorne and at that moment she both envied and pitied her._

"I can't talk to you or anyone about it. I just can't. I don't know how to say what's wrong and I don't want to talk about it. It just reinforces the negatives. Sorry I woke you up. Snuggle up and go back to sleep. I'll try, too. We have a lot to do in the morning."

Sarah raised her face to his and kissed him gently, sucking a bit on his lower lip and running the tip of her tongue over the captive portion. She ran her thumb over his lips and felt them twitch a microkiss back. It was a beginning. She pulled her t-shirt off and

rolled over in the cage of his arms and pulled his arms around her placing one hand on her stomach and the other above her breasts.

She wiggled her butt against him and giggled.

He was concentrating on ignoring the warm flawless skin of her back bare against his chest and the ivory curve of her neck where the hair had fallen over her shoulder. She'd grabbed his arm and pulled it over her and now it rested below her bare breasts on her warm silky-skinned stomach. Permutations, derivatives, algorithms, geometric proofs, all failed to sufficiently distract him from all her charms.

Sarah chuckled to herself. She could almost hear the gears and pulleys and transistors and circuit boards of Chuck's mind fry under her subtle but age-old assault of seduction. Sometimes Evil Sarah just had to be let out to play. It was only fair.

Chuck's mind was fried. He was cooked. Toast. He hadn't been prepared for the sensory onslaught and his first line of defenders were swept away by the heat of rising passion. He'd have to counterattack if he was to avoid being totally overrun.

He sent instructions for a reconnaissance in force. He'd send the international brigade, Roman Hands aided by Russian Fingers. Loose Lips forces would probe the enemy's defenses for weaknesses to exploit later.

Under the guise of avoiding getting hair in his mouth and eyes he'd pulled the long trailing tail of her ponytail to the other side and this bared her neck and shoulder. After a minute or so he blew lightly on her neck where it met her shoulder and was rewarded with a barely heard gasp. First contact.

An old military adage says that no plan survives first contact with the enemy intact. So it was with this one.

She clenched her buttocks sending shrill alarums through his groin. He responded by sliding a thigh between hers, something he'd never done before. Another gasp, not as sharp as the first but a gasp nonetheless and it was followed by a ragged sigh.

He made slow circles softly with the pads of his fingertips on her stomach, soft enough to be felt but firm enough not to tickle. A slight quivering of her abdominal muscles and he changed course began again, this time long transverse strokes, still circling her warm silky skin with slow circles. After a few repetitions of the patterns he slowed his fingers and stopped.

Chuck let his breath even out and feigned dozing off and let his head fall slightly until his barely-parted lips were in contact with the juncture between neck and shoulder just above the hollow of the collar bone. He kissed the skin, sucking slightly and then just allowing his lips to rest, barely touching her.

A shudder and a whimper.

_If he's gone to sleep I'll kill him. I can't believe his fingers have such an effect and his lips on my neck are pure torture. He can't have gone to sleep. Damn him. _

Field Marshal Bartowski accepted the enemy's flag and went to sleep, a satisfied smile on his face. Bartowski:1 Walker: 0 The age old game had ended it's first round.

The next day passed quickly. Chuck and Sarah had gone to an IHOP for breakfast and he'd commented on her skimpy breakfast of cut fresh fruit on a bed of lettuce. She commented on his blood-thickening, artery-clogging, cholesterol-laden pancakes, sausage, eggs and toast.

Casey and Sarah were busy packaging up basics for the new facility and Chuck was doing the daily intel briefings when one thing caught his eye. The CIA reported the disappearance of CIA Officer Robin Thorne on a routine surveillance in Mexico. Her partner was unnamed but stated that she had assumed her shift in the apartment overlooking the terminal they were watching and he left to return to their apartment.

There were three more 'disappearances' noted, each occurring while reconning port or terminal facilities in Mexico. All were women. One was Marissa Stone. Chuck didn't know any of the other agents but hoped his handlers would.

What were the odds of two women, both assigned, however briefly, as handlers for the intersect being abducted? Too high to be a coincidence.

He called Casey over and ran the details by him. His eyebrows raised when Chuck mentioned names and past assignments. "Chuck, it probably nothing. Just coincidence, I'm sure. Ask Walker if she knows any of the others."

"Ask Walker if she knows who?" Sarah had walked in on the conversation.

After hearing what Chuck had found, she nodded her head. "Thorne was here, Stone was here, Duncan, I think, Duncan was on the list of possibles if I… failed. I don't know Romero at all. Who were their partners?

Chuck pulled up the partner data and had a hard flash. All but Thorne's partners were suspected of being Fulcrum.

"Well, shit, oh dear. I think the walls are closing in on me and that damned hole of Beckman's is opening as we speak. We have to report this to her, regardless of the consequences. It's the right thing to do, Casey. They're trying to find me. If they've tortured those poor girls to find me… shit. We have to do something."

"Chuck, they're probably dead by now. It's been 72 hours without word. Fulcrum may have taken them for some other reason, simply because they were watching their facilities."

"Yeah, and Casey's a Democrat. You know of the four taken, two definitely had knowledge of the Intersect's host and one may have. That's 50% certainty with a 75% probability of compromise."

"Then I think we need to make our move sooner than planned. Like right now. We take critical shit, weapons and equipment for the mission tonight then leave the mission site and head to the Citadel. Objections?"

There were none. It was decided to have Sarah leave her car at the Burbank Mall rather than the Castle for security purposes. They'd pick it up when they headed south to San Pedro.

The van was loaded and there would barely be room for the 3 of them. When the mission was complete, Chuck would drive the van, Sarah would drive her Porsche and Casey would take one of the Suburbans and follow.

"OK, I'm going back to my apartment and pick up what personal stuff I want and I'll stow it in the Suburban. You two do the same and put it in the Suburban before we leave for the freight depot. See you here about 1AM and we'll go through our final mission brief and then conduct the op. Sarah, we'll drop your car at the Mall on our way to the terminal."

"I have nothing I'll need since neither Ellie or Devon are involved. I'll just keep you company if you don't mind while you pack. Then we can grab some dinner and meet Casey, OK?"

"Won't take me long to pack, Chuck, don't have much. Dinner sounds good. Something healthy. Pizza?" She laughed at the look on Chuck's face. "No olives, though, Chuck. You don't want me burping all night, do you? We'll call it in and then bring it back to my room."

"Agent Walker, why, when you devastated this pizza with such decisiveness, did you rank me out for trying to feed you the exact same thing on our 2nd date?"

"Because I was determined to be as difficult as possible and to make your life a living hell, Chuck, because I was pulled off an assignment I enjoyed. I feel ashamed now. I was a bitch, wasn't I?" '_Bitch? More like a demoness from hell, bound and determined to destroy a man's soul because you were inconvenienced… yeah, that's more descriptive. And all because you wanted to be there just in case Larkin called wanting a little weekend nookie or some afternoon delight. You were his bootie call girl.'_

"Oh, yes. But I can understand your resentment. Being my handler is neither exotic or exciting and probably pales next to some of the things you've done."

"Chuck? Shut up." She put her hand behind his head and pulled him to her and kissed him, her tongue demanding entrance. They fell back on the bed, Sarah beneath him and he slipped his tongue in to duel with hers. The battle was on and Sarah was determined to win, taking no prisoners and conquering her foe. If he fell asleep tonight it would be from sexual exhaustion, nothing else.

His shirt went first and then her skirt, followed by his jeans and her tank top and then boxers, bra and panties. They moved up onto the bed proper and slipped under the sheets all without a word.

Afterwards, Chuck was appalled to see tears in her eyes as she buried her face in the crook of his neck. He tried to get up but her legs, already around his waist, clenched and she whispered, 'Please, please, don't move. I never want to move again. I can't move again. I've never been… it was… what the hell did you do to me?"

Chuck tried to shift his weight to his elbows certain he was too heavy for her.

"What part of 'don't move' don't you understand, Chuck? I want to stay like this as long as possible while I figure out how you made me…how I could have…what the hell did you do to me? No one has ever made me feel…"

"Sarah, I just loved you, that's all. Hasn't anyone ever just let it all go and loved you? To emphasize his point he twitched a portion of his anatomy currently held captive and she moaned and clenched her legs."

"Oh, my, I just, I, give me a couple of days to recover and let's do that again, OK?"

He laughed, please with himself and with her responses to what he did. He could spend at least an hour cataloguing her various endearments, exhortations, wildly creative threats if he stopped…and he wanted to do it again, but hardly in days.

"Days? You have got to be kidding me. Give me a few minutes to recover and then…" She kissed him to both shut him up and hurry up his recovery.

An hour later Chuck looked up at her and grinned. He caressed one erect nipple and then the other. "No 'twang', see." She giggled and rocked against him, shuddering from the sensations. When he went down on her she had an incredible orgasm and when he finally entered her it was so intense it almost hurt, but not quite.

"Sarah, I want to see if I can do something. Close your eyes and lie down on me and snuggle up. OK. Just let your mind wander and think of what you just experienced. Remember the best parts and remember the things you liked doing the most. Now, concentrate on those memories and take my hands in yours and kiss me and then hold the kiss and tell me what you feel."

"OH!" followed by a gasp. Then she squeezed his hands and slipped her tongue into his mouth, all the while tightening her lower muscles to grip him.

"Chuck, I felt – I felt –you. I mean I felt what you felt. Wow. Good thing you didn't have me do that a while ago. We'd have both been incapacitated from pleasure. I want to thank that teacher of yours a thousand times. Robin was such a fool to leave a wonderful lover like you."

"I didn't love her so it wasn't as good for her or me. I held back because I couldn't release the feelings I didn't have for her. Sounds crazy but it's true. I think she was satisfied though. I mean she never complained."

"Chuck, I hate to break this up but we need to shower and get to the Castle. We'll have other times, I promise you, sweetheart. I won't leave you no matter what. We'll go off grid if they try to separate us. I've got money and some off-the-book safe spots. And we won't have to be afraid, Chuck. Just promise me you'll stay in the damned van, please? I want more of this. I want a lifetime of this. Do what you're told, stay safe for me."

"OK, team, the clock is running. You have 70 minutes to do your thing and then get out. Casey, you and Sarah stick together so the view overlaps a bit. It'll make flashing easier. I just remembered, you got the Geiger counter, right? Didn't see it on the equipment list."

"Yeah. I never took it out after the last time. We're in. Offices first then the loading and storage areas. We're heading for the manager's office first. We'll put the spoof on his computer as #1 on the list."

By the time they were done with the office, they were 30 minutes into the mission but already 20 minutes behind the curve.

"OK, we're behind the timeline, let's start with anything behind secure doors like a vault, maybe. Thermals show no living beings, not even rats or mice and that's rare for these places. Maybe they all died? Sarah, pan your camera over the crates and let's see if we get lucky."

Thirty-five minutes later, Chuck shouted for them to stop moving. "Got a big thermal bloom behind you. I think there's a basement or underground structure and someone just opened the door. Thermals approaching your positions. Abort mission and get out. I'll meet you at the north loading dock. Do not stop for souvenirs. I count 6 thermal images behind you about 30 yards and closing and 3 coming at you from the east danger close. I'm moving now."

Chuck got behind the wheel of the van and started driving towards the north loading dock. He got the van up to 60 mph and was only a hundred yards from his objective when the RPG rocket struck the rear wheel of the van, flipping it on its side. His air bag deployed and stunned him for a few precious seconds until it deflated. He undid his seat belt and fell to the other side of the van, now the floor. Frantically, he kicked out the shattered windshield and rolled out onto the tarmac.

He scuttled on his belly about 10 yards away from the burning van and took out his M1911 and charged it. There were two men in civilian clothes approaching the van at a run. They were armed with pistols and the RPG launcher. Thinking the situation through he realized he couldn't take them out, even hit them at this range. He needed to get closer. He screwed on the big silencer and waited. They'd come to him.

"Casey, I can't raise Chuck. His comm's down and I heard an explosion. Did you hear it?" She was running with Casey toward the loading dock. Chuck should be there with the van, waiting for them.

"Yeah, RPG then a secondary like a gas tank. Don't worry, he's OK. He has to be. He stayed in the damned van. He's supposed to be safe in the van." They'd been suckered in like new agents. The forwarding location was the hive. Underground. No one saw it until Chuck saw the thermal bloom of the entrance opening.

They were almost to the open doors now. Running full out and dodging the occasional burst of gunfire.

"Hey, here's one from the van. Looks like he's toast. Got thrown clear but I think he's dead from the way he's laying there and his neck all bent like that. Search him and I'll cover you."

He decided the talking one would go first unless the quiet one made out his deception. He had the big .45 ready to fire as soon as they were close enough that even he couldn't miss. He took a deep breath and started to moan and cry out, as if in sever pain.

"He's alive, barely." The closest one was bending over to check him out, weapon pointed at his chest. "He's really messed up if all that blubbering is any…" The |phhht| of the silencer interrupted his speech and he fell to his knees holding his throat. Chuck had seen the vest.

His partner had been behind him and hadn't seen Chuck fire. When the Fulcrum agent fell to his knees Chuck sat up and fired at the other enemy agent, hitting him in the vest with all remaining rounds. The impact knocked him down but he was alive. Chuck reloaded and then unscrewed the silencer using the dead man's shirt to keep from burning himself. He _wanted _them to hear him. His comm was out and he figured his teammates would hear his cannon and come running.

The Fulcrum agent rolled over on his side and tried to fire at Chuck but he'd moved behind the agent and was kneeling down inches from him, waiting for him to regain consciousness. He sat up and looked around until the hot muzzle of Chuck's 45 seared his cheek.

"How many more of you are there and how did you find us? You have 3 seconds to answer or I'll blow off your nose." It sounded ridiculous to Chuck and he laughed. It was the first thing that came into his mind. The guy did have a big nose.

Apparently the slightly maniacal laughter convinced the Fulcrum agent he _would_ lose his nose so he started babbling. Loudly. Chuck looked up at the sound of an approaching vehicle. He knelt down behind the enemy agent using him as a shield. "Your friends better have sense or you're dead. But first I'll shoot off that big honker of yours."

The big truck swung sideways between him and the van. He slid around keeping his new best friend between him and the truck.

"Get in the damned truck, numb nuts. Bad guys are coming. Bring him and let's go."

Chuck just shook his head. Casey would never understand. He stood up and told the Fulcrum agent "This is your lucky day, dude, I don't get to kill you. Remember that the next time you decide to betray your country." He started to turn when the agent went for another weapon under his vest. Chuck turned and shot him in the face. "Dumb ass. You could have gone home tonight."

He walked towards the van. He didn't have any place in the spy world, that was clear.

Sarah looked at Casey in horror. "He just shot a prisoner. In cold blood. My God, what have we done to him?" Casey just shook his head. He'd seen the sudden move and approved of Bartowski's actions. Well, he wouldn't have shot him in the face at such close range.

"He did what he had to do, Walker. The guy made a move on him. He did the right thing."

Chuck hopped into the bed of the truck and sat back against the cab. He'd stayed in the van. And look what happened. Damned if he did and damned if he didn't.

Sarah got out of the cab and motioned for Chuck to get in. She didn't look him in the eye.

Sarah got back in and Chuck jumped in and slammed the door. "Stay in the van, Chuck. Riiight."

He reached over and took her hand in his and leaned over and said quietly, "You OK? No injuries?" She just nodded and leaned against him, squeezing his hand. He couldn't see her tears. He leaned against her, resting his face on her head and closed his eyes. He'd killed another human. No, two human beings.

Sarah felt the first drops of moisture trickle down her forehead. She squeezed Chuck's hand and turned her face towards his and murmured so Casey couldn't hear "I love you, Chuck Bartowski for who you are, not what you are." Another squeeze of her hand and they knew they'd be all right again.

Since the van was toast, Chuck rode to San Pedro with Sarah in her Porsche. By prior agreement, Casey took the back door, maintaining watch.

"I'll bet you're tired, Sarah. All that running around on just a fruit plate and a pizza couldn't have provided much in the way of energy." He remembered her digs at breakfast.

"Well, I have to keep my girlish figure to keep my manly man, don't I?" Two could play the game.

Chuck was quiet for a while. Thinking. Deep thoughts. His eyes closed and she thought he might be dozing off. After all, he'd had a big day and had performed admirably for her, several times, and then the mess at the terminal. She felt wired but cold. She rolled down the window and felt the warm night air merging with the cold air in her car.

"Chuck, Chuck, damn it, Chuck, don't do this to me. Come back to me, please." She was in a panic, swerving and changing lanes until she pulled off in the breakdown lane. Chuck slumped over towards her, his seat belt keeping him upright. She felt his face. The skin was ice cold. She didn't know what to do so she slapped him across the face and the screamed at him to come back, not to leave her.

Casey pulled up behind them in the big suburban and ran up to the passenger door thinking one of them had been wounded and not told anyone.

"Walker, what the hell?" He could see her slapping a sleeping Bartowski and screaming at him not to leave her.

'_He was standing in his high mountain pass feeling the cold from the winds and the crunching snow under his boots. His ice axe dangled from one wrist and he adjusted his goggles enjoying the scene as the sun's terminator line raced across the glacier that melted into the lake in the valley below. Slowly and carefully he started his descent carefully picking out the path across the glacier to the waiting tree line. From there he would be able to see home. He could hear someone calling his name, begging him to return. Return to what? He was going home.'_

"Chuck, don't do this to us." She was as close to being hysterical as Casey had ever seen. He felt Chuck's face and jerked his hand back. It was cold as ice. Was he dead? There was a small trickle of blood from on of his nostrils, the result of a slap to bring him back. Back from where?

Chuck sat up and took a huge breath, then another. He began to shiver and there was ice on his hands and in his hair. Casey just stared, shocked. He had no idea what was going on.

"Damn you, Chuck Bartowski, don't you leave me." She was holding him around the chest and had heard the 2 huge inhalations and now started sobbing uncontrollably. Not a good sign for a spy to loose it over another teammate.

Chuck put his arms around her and croaked, "S-s-sorry, S-Sarah. I didn't mean to go. Just shock of being a killer. Won't happen again." He hugged her and his tears froze on his icy face. Casey just stared at his two teammates then went back to the suburban and found a bottle of whiskey in his personal stash. He found a coffee mug under the seat and filled it with the liquor.

"Here, Chuck, drink this. What you don't drink, she does. You both need to pull it together. We'll find a motel and check into the citadel in the morning. On second thought, Sarah, don't drink any of that. You have to drive. Are you able?"

She turned in her seat and started the car. She wiped away her tears and nodded. "Ready when you are, Major."

They checked into a motel near the citadel's location. Casey wanted one room but Sarah told him no and that was the end of the discussion. Chuck was quiet and seemed unfocused. Sarah was clearly worried and scared and annoyed with him. They agreed to meet at 10am for breakfast.

"Chuck, get undressed and come to bed, honey. We're both really tired and I just want to feel you around me, warm and alive, not frozen and dead. You promised not to do that Chuck, you promised me. I almost lost you twice tonight and we're just getting started with each other in life."

Chuck felt like such a shit. He hadn't even known he'd slipped across. Must have been stress that triggered it. It wasn't supposed to be involuntary. He stripped off everything and walked in and took a shower. He had blood on him from his two kills. Two humans murdered. Sarah slipped in and wrapped her arms around him.

"Hey, it's OK, Chuck. We're OK. You just had a human reaction to taking a life. It's who you are, human, and you're a better man than any I've met. Now, please dry off and let's go to bed. Please, baby, please, you need to rest and I need to be wrapped around you."

Chuck didn't even bother with boxers, just crawled into bed and held out his arms to Sarah. She smiled a slow smile and then lay down beside him, her back to his chest, and she pulled his arms around her and held him tightly to her as he slipped a thigh between hers and started to speak to her in quiet simple words.

"I didn't know I'd slipped across. I didn't do it deliberately. I think it was a reaction to the shootings. I killed those men because they were between you and me, no other reason. Not for country, not for team but because they were in my way and you were in trouble. So I guess if it's not love it's a magnificent obsession I've got going here. So just sleep, Sarah. I'm not leaving." He kissed her neck and nuzzled it. She could feel the tension leak from her with each breath on her neck. It would be all right.

Morning came all to soon for her and she reached over to find her warm partner and instead found the bed empty. Just as she was getting out of bed the room door opened and Chuck walked in with two cups of coffee and some doughnuts.

He opened his and poured in sugar and stirred it. He looked at her and she realized they'd made love, killed people and made promises and oaths to one another and he didn't know how she took her coffee. She only knew about his because she'd just watched him. Details they needed to fill in for each other when things calmed down. Little details like what they were going to do when the brass found out they were lovers and tried to end it. She knew Casey would be fine with it as long as it didn't get in the way of their missions.

Chuck was amazed at the Citadel. Three stories, one above ground for admin and 'public' face, the other two with ranges, commissary, a dormitory, a large parking garage and motor pool, a full communications set up and a detention section with better security than FT Knox.

"You think this is something, Chuck, wait until you see a Fortress." Chuck could only imagine what that must be like.

The NSA strike team commander came over and introduced himself to Chuck. He'd been the commander at Stockton and commented on how Chuck seemed to have recovered nicely. He also made a comment about his sexy 'cave mate' and Casey was waiting for the explosion but Chuck just glanced at the man and smiled. "You'll never know just how right you are, Commander. Smart, too." Chuck walked away and the Commander looked at Casey and shrugged. Casey just grinned and made no comment.

Chuck found Sarah in the commissary drinking coffee but looking at some want-ads.

"Hey, babe, looking for a job?" She glanced up at him and smiled their private smile.

"No, looking for a house or apartment for us. I am not staying here. They want to separate us. I told you they would. Bullshit, Chuck. So not going to happen. Team Intersect calls the shots here. We're independent. So I'm being independent. Want to come looking for apartments?"

"Sarah, I'll get bored then unfocused and then you'll be cold again. So, no. I'll stay here and get some practice in on the range. I have a gut feeling we'll need to be on our toes."

She knew he was kidding but she didn't like it. "Fine, but don't complain if it's all frou-frou with pink and mauve everywhere."

He gave her a quick kiss. "I trust you with my life Sara, colors are incidentals."

"Walker, secure."

"Graham, secure. Sarah, we need you to come to DC for a briefing and then on to Paris to debrief one of your deep cover assets. He has vital information regarding American and European targets of the Islamic Jihad. He only trusts you, Sarah. Your tickets are already issued and we'll expect you here tomorrow for a briefing."

"But Director, we have an operation on the books and I can't leave my asset. You know how vital this is to internal security."

"Agent Walker. Catch the damned plane. I'll have the operation put on hold until you return."

Three hours later a disgruntled Agent Walker boarded her flight for DC. She was not a happy camper.

Chuck had spent a restless night without Sarah. He kept reaching over to find her and falling out of the small single bed.

Disgusted, he was drinking coffee and reviewing the 'daily dump' of intel from the NSA network at 4am when he noted a hit on Robin Thorne.

Facial recognition software had tagged a photo of Thorne crossing the border from Mexico into the US the previous morning. Chuck accessed the file and pulled up the original uncropped photograph from the Customs/Border Patrol security camera. He enlarged and enhanced the car and loaded the California license plate into the DMV data base.

He enlarged and enhanced the driver of the vehicle and then loaded the grainy partial picture into the recognition software and went to get another cup of coffee. He knew it would take a while to match the photograph since it was only a partial. The sun visor had been down on the vehicle, partially obscuring the face.

The vehicle ID came back from the DMV. The vehicle was registered to Bruce L. Thorne, Jr. of San Diego. He next checked the white pages hoping to hit a phone but came up blank. Damned cell phones. He knew from a flash on Robin's file that she was single.

Chuck went on reviewing the 'dump' and flashed on a routine traffic stop and arrest for a foreign national with diplomatic immunity. The man was a money launderer for the Bernelli cartel in Milan, Italy, with links to Cosa Nostra and an American east coast crime family. Not exactly Tony Soprano but he forwarded the info up the line to the NSA analysis unit for handling.

He found Casey in the commissary drinking his umpteenth cup of coffee. "Hey, guess what was in the 'dump' this morning? Robin Thorne's picture as she crossed into the US from Mexico in a car driven by her husband, Bruce L. Thorne, Jr. of San Diego. I've loaded a partial into the facial recognition software. Maybe we could pay them a visit? San Diego's not that far."

Casey mulled it over. "Let me have what you got after the hit on the driver. Maybe we can pick her up and she'll lead us to Duncan or Stone. I don't like losing agents."

By 3pm the facial recognition software had pulled up 11 possible matches from the government files. Two were females and he immediately discarded them. Chuck paged through the remaining file image matches until he hit – Bryce Larkin.

Casey and the NSA strike commander were reviewing options after finding a floor plan for the 'Thorne' residence. It was in a cracker box development of cookie-cutter tract homes and the plans were available at the developer's website.

The strike team would enter the domicile from front and rear simultaneously. Chuck would stay in the truck running the mission clock and surveillance.

"Casey, bad things happen when I stay in the truck."

"Stay in the damned truck, Chuck. Walker would flay me alive if anything happened to you now."

"You're probably using me as RPG bait. I thought you were my friend. I need asbestos jammies if I'm going to run with this crowd. Look what happened the last time. And the time before that. And the time before that."

"Chuck, stay in the truck."

Sarah Walker's plane landed at Orly Airport in Paris.

"Casey, thermal imaging shows one human in the kitchen, immobile. No other thermal images. Wait, image is moving into rear of dwelling. Yeah, bathroom break according to the floor plan."

The teams entered on a radio signal and located and secured Marissa Stone. She was zip-tied and taken into the kitchen.

Chuck was setting up the recording devices for the interrogation when a sledge hammer shattered the window behind him and someone tossed in a gas grenade. He tried to warn the team but he was overcome by the powerful nerve agent within the first second.

Casey radioed Chuck for an update on intel and he didn't respond. Cursing his asset who was probably fooling around with his iPod instead of doing his job, Casey sent out two of the strike team members to bring him in to observe the interrogation.

Marissa Stone hadn't said a word up until then. "Too bad about Chuck, Casey. He was kinda cute in a dorky kind of way but Robin said he was dynamite in the sack. Well, after she's done with him, those days will be over." She laughed at the expression on Casey's face just as the strike team radioed back about the attack and the missing asset.

"See, told you. Too late to help him, Casey. Unless he joins us, he's dead. Not a fast death, either. Robin and Bryce have something special planned for him because of all the trouble he's caused Fulcrum. For his sake, I hope he turns, otherwise, she'll skin him."

Casey pulled out his GPS tracker but it showed that Chuck was still in the van. That meant they'd found the watch and wallet transponders. He was lost to them.

The sodium pentathol and scopalomine cocktail used for interrogations proved useless. She'd been trained to resist and they'd lost a valuable hour and a half on the Fulcrum agents who had Chuck. It took 45 minutes for her to become lucid enough to speak something other than nonsense.

"Marissa, you said they'd skin Chuck alive if he didn't turn? Well, I'm not going to do the same to you if you don't tell me where they've taken him." His tone was very pleasant and Marissa suddenly began doubting the wisdom of joining Fulcrum. "No, that's entirely too messy and time consuming. No. I think something less physical is called for.

Casey hated what he had to do but it was necessary. The third finger in Chuck's 3-finger philosophy.

Forty-five minutes later they had the location of the meat packing plant where Larkin and Thorne had taken Chuck. It was less than 10 minutes away and that meant they'd had Chuck for more than two hours.

He pulled the remnants of the plastic bag off Marissa's head and told the sobbing and gasping Fulcrum traitor, "If he's dead, you die. You'll die the same way, only slower, I promise you."

Meat Packing Plant

San Diego, CA

Chuck hung by his wrists from a meat hook in a walk-in freezer. The floor was covered with a large puddle of blood and Robin Thorne was talking quietly to her former lover and asset.

"I hated every minute I had to spend with you. [_another stroke_] Every time we had sex it was all I could do to keep from puking. [_another_] You were a disgusting lover. [_another_] No wonder every woman you ever had left you. [_another_] Inadequate, [_slice_] clumsy, [_slash_] a disgusting excuse for a man. [_slice_] Why did you make me love you, you bastard!" Tears steamed down her cheeks, spittle sprayed with each stroke of the wire hanger.

She swung the coat hanger whip and another huge welt appeared, cutting into the skin of earlier strikes. The bright feral gleam of madness sparkled in her eyes. Gone were the tears, lost in some inner conflict between sanity and madness.

"This wire coat hanger is an effective 'skin splitter', don't you think, lover? I can see some muscle and also patches of skin are just hanging off. I wish I could show you this, Bartowski. A work of art." She giggled and hit him again. She was ready to start on his chest and then her little razor blades would make sure he never satisfied another woman. Those moments of bliss were hers alone.

Bryce Larkin walked into the freezer and looked at his former 'best friend'. "Ah, Chuck, look what's become of you. You should have joined us. Power, women, money, position, all yours in the new Order. You should have said 'yes', Chuck."

"I never asked him, honey. He'd just say no, anyway." She giggled again.

"Oh, Christ. You never asked him? Do you have a death wish? He needs to join Fulcrum. My God, clean him up and I'll talk to him. He'll listen."

Bryce looked forward to ridding himself of this insane woman as soon as his need for her was over. She'd become obsessed with Chuck Bartowski, loving him one moment and crying for her lost love and then cackling over how she was going to love taking him apart, literally. He would enjoy putting this rabid dog down when the time came. How the Agency shrinks missed this one was a mystery to him.

Robin picked up a bucket and sluiced the contents over Chuck's back. He screamed and arched his back and then lost consciousness for the first time.

'What the hell was in that?" Bryce was livid. They were wasting valuable time on this.

"Oops, guess I picked up some pickling brine by mistake." She giggled and watched the blood trickle down his legs, adding to the puddle already formed.

"Come with me. We need to report this to home base. Besides, your pizza's here and if we don't get ours, the boys will hog it all."

Bryce sent one of his thugs down to 'keep Chuck company' with instructions to concentrate on the face and stomach. No broken bones other than the face. They didn't have the time or facilities to deal with broken ribs and collapsed lungs.

Chuck pulled himself up by the chain on his handcuffs and grabbed the tang of the hook he was suspended from. He inched his almost numb fingers up the tang and then threw himself off the hook, landing on his hands and knees. He looked around for his clothes but heard someone coming down the hall and ran to wall beside the door.

When the Fulcrum agent walked into the freezer, Chuck crushed his skull with a frozen leg of lamb. He didn't like lamb but he loved this one.

He bent down, trying not to sob out loud from the pain in his back and took the dead man's pistol and 2 magazines. He rifled through his pockets and found a key ring and after many tries, Chuck removed his cuffs. The pain caused by the blood rushing through into his hands almost made him cry but at least the numbness was fading.

He dragged the body over to the rack beside where he'd been hanging and "hung' the dead man from a hook through his torso. 'Good luck getting down from there'.

Chuck heard Bryce and Thorne coming down the corridor and hid beside the door, a plan forming in his pain-racked mind.

He quickly unscrewed the light bulb and stood against the side a few feet from the door. Everything depended on them walking into the freezer.

Bryce walked in with Thorne and he called for his agent. The light in the back of the large freezer compartment was on and they could see a body hanging from a hook.

"What the hell?" Larkin exclaimed and both of them rushed into the freezer while Chuck slipped through the opening and slammed the door, locking the lack with a large meat hook hanging from a rack.

Larkin and Thorne drew their weapons and Chuck laughed as the muffled reports stopped after they realized the 12 inch thick insulated door stopped their attempts to shoot out the lock. Chuck went to the small wire-grilled window and tapped on it with the muzzle of his pistol. Both of them began shooting at the small window and Chuck just laughed. He reached over and moved the temperature control to 'flash-freeze' and set the temperature to the lowest it would go –160F.

Larkin and Thorne heard the compressor pumps start to cycle and then the air filled with white smoky mist as the temperature plunged.

Chuck laughed and shouted to Robin, "Stay cool, Robin." Still laughing he made his way down the corridor towards the sound of voices. He didn't know or care why they didn't respond to the earlier gunfire. He used the wall to support himself and the yellow wall looked like someone had tried to paint a red stripe across its width. Bloody handprints were spaced periodically as Chuck leaned against the wall while taking a break to clear his head.

He came to the entrance to the break room. The heavy fire door was closed and that explained the lack of reaction to the gunfire. He glanced in through the square glass window and counted 3 Fulcrum agents eating pizza. Well, he could do this. A piece of cake.

He pushed the door open and stepped in. He imagined Sarah's coaching about stance and the need to squeeze not 'twang' the trigger. He laughed and shot two of the agents in the back and the third caught the remaining rounds in the magazine.

Chuck walked in and took a slice of pizza. Crap, olives. Sarah hates olives on her pizza. He threw the slice down and went to find a way out. He was sick to his stomach, dizzy, and he didn't trust himself to walk very damned far. And he was so sleepy.

He left behind a puddle of blood that mingled with the smaller puddles dripping from the Fulcrum agents' bodies.

He hugged the wall as if it could support him and hold him up until help came. They had to come to him because he was too tired to go to them. He didn't know who 'them' were but he remembered a big guy always snarling at him. But he was a friend.

Chuck could see his breath and he was getting so cold. He slid down the wall into a sitting position and remembered he needed to leave her a note. It was important to blonde hair and blue eyes and … shit, he couldn't remember what he meant to do. Oh, yeah. A note. He dipped his finger in a puddle of red stuff and wrote a junior high note. I luv SW.

He was so cold and the ice axe hanging from his left wrist felt so heavy.

The strike team blew the loading dock doors and rushed down the closest corridor towards what they hoped was the office area in the front of the plant. They searched the offices and then moved down a corridor that had a heavy mist-like fog billowing around their ankles on the floor. Casey spotted the freezer door with the meat hook locking it shut.

He signaled the two point strikers to take position and he removed the hook and swung open the door. The two strikers didn't advance. Casey looked around the door and found two frozen ice statues, a screaming Bryce Larkin holding a pistol and a terrified Robin Thorne, her face frozen in a macabre leer, a hand frozen to Larkin's shoulder.

He glanced at the temperature control and dialed it back to 0F. He saw a body hanging from a meat hook by its torso and prayed it wasn't Chuck.

The strike team continued up the corridor towards a lighted section of hallway. Casey and the strike team commander were securing the frozen bodies, well, trying to.

"I misjudged that boy, Major. He's no one's boytoy, is he?" He chuckled then grew silent. "Oh, shit. Look at that pool of blood. Your man's hurt bad, Major. Let's hurry up and find him."

One of the point men reported back to the commander that they'd found 3 dead Fulcrum agents in a lunchroom facility and blood all over the corridor walls. It looked like a bloodbath in there. Everything was coated with a thin layer of ice. They hurried to join the main body.

Casey grimaced as he saw the intermittent stripe of blood and occasional bloody handprint of the wall. The stripe was getting more irregular as if the 'paint' supply was running out on the painter's brush or roller. He glanced into the lunchroom and confirmed 3 dead Fulcrum agents, all covered with a layer of ice. The cold mist still swirled around the team's ankles giving the corridor an eerie feel to it.

They saw the loading dock where they'd entered 30 or so yards ahead. One of the point men signaled a halt and then the other one came back to the two officers.

"Commander, you aren't going to believe this shit. Come take a look at this. I think, I mean, hell I don't know. It looks like Bartowski but he's… he's in ice. "

The body of Chuck Bartowski was leaning against the corridor wall encased in crystal clear ice at least 3 inches thick at its thinness point. It looked like he'd fallen asleep, a slight smile on his face and then fallen over onto his side. The head cams picked up everything including Bartowski's nearly shredded back. Casey looked down and saw where his finger was frozen to something he'd written. He grimaced. 'Yeah, Chuck, you sure did.'

Twelve hours later John Casey was pacing around the morgue at Burbank Hospital. They'd brought the body back to Burbank for a number of reasons, none of which made a lot of sense but Casey had insisted. "I brought you home, Chuck. Ellie will be here and Sarah and all the people from the BuyMore. You won't be alone, Chuck."

Now the body was gone and all that remained was a bloody puddle of melt water. Security cameras showed that no entered or left the morgue, no one approached the NSA guards and no tampered with the body. The ice melted and it was gone.

"Walker, secure."

"Graham, secure. Agent Walker, finish your debriefing by 6pm local time. A plane is waiting for you at Orly. Come home, Sarah."

Sarah boarded the executive jet and was the only passenger. As soon as she was aboard and seated the plane took off.

The plane landed at Reagan International in DC, refueled, and continued on to LAX. Sarah tried reaching Casey but her call went to voicemail. When she called Chuck's phone it rang without answer.

When the plane landed at LAX she was met by two strike team members in plain clothes and driven to Burbank Hospital. Neither of them would answer her questions.

Burbank Memorial Hospital

Burbank, CA

"You're telling me that I have to sign these papers in order to be told about my brother's activities? John, we're neighbors, you work at the BuyMore with Chuck until he got a new job. You can't be serious?" Ellie Bartowski was getting extremely pissed off. First she'd been summoned to the Chief of Medical Staff's office and told she was on immediate leave at full pay until further notice. Then she was met by John Casey as she walked out of the Chief's office and 'led' to this conference room where men in dark suits and dark glasses stood outside the doors.

"Yes, Dr. Bartowski, that's exactly what I'm telling you. Those papers are copies of Non-Disclosure agreements, a contract with the CIA to provide medical services at a premium to selected agents at this hospital and lastly a copy of the Official Secrets Act and all it's amendments. Dr. Bartowski, Ellie, please sign those forms."

There was something about his tone of voice, the way his eyes kept shifting between her and the clock that made her extremely uneasy. Exasperated, she signed the forms.

John Casey pushed something in his ear and nodded. "Thank you, Dr. Bartowski. I have to meet and escort someone else to this meeting and she's just arrived. Please be patient."

John went to the elevators just as Sarah Walker got off. He greeted her with a tense smile and took her by the elbow and led her to the conference room. She entered and saw a small dark-haired woman sitting at the conference table surrounded by government forms. She was wearing blue scrubs and had the required stethoscope around her neck.

"Sarah, this is Chuck's sister, Dr. Eleanor Bartowski. Ellie, this is…" he got no further because Sarah Walker screamed out the word 'No' in one long syllable and then seemed to run out of air and collapsed bonelessly to the floor.

"Hey, Sarah, I'm Ellie Bartowski, Chuck's sister. Can you sit up? Sarah, John told me that Chuck's dead. I know you two were, I don't know, lovers, partners, boy/girl friend, and from your reaction I know you loved him very much. I'm so sorry for our loss. He showed me a video of the scene. Sarah, I don't think you should see it, not right now. I don't think I'll ever sleep soundly again. My little brother a spy."

"Casey tells me you're Chuck's 'handler' but I can tell you're more than that. Much more. Can you talk about it? I was dragooned into the damned CIA so I guess I have clearance to hear about the 'life and times of Chuck Bartowski, spy'."

They talked for nearly 3 hours and then Ellie told Sarah to get her things and stay in Chuck's room until things calmed down. She just shook her head. "Not for a bit. I'll keep it in mind. I have a video to see and a job to quit. I can't do this any more, Ellie. Oh, how am I going to go on without him?" The crying lasted almost another hour.

"Sarah, you're sure you want to see this? It's, it's graphic. And Dr. Bartowski, you don't have to see it again."

"Yes, I do. I want Sarah to have support and to answer some questions. It's OK, John. I'm OK. Thanks but leave us alone for a bit, please?"

The video was a compilation of the various helmet cams used by the strike team. Someone had done a good job of editing and cutting and pasting because it flowed evenly.

First they showed the takedown of Marissa Stone and the truck Chuck was in. The voice-over mentioned a nerve agent and how he hadn't had time to warn the team before he was taken. His watch, wallet and cell phone were lying on the ground. "They couldn't find him because he'd left his transponder behind. The watch and wallet all have GPS transponders so we know where he is. The bastards took them off him."

Then the scene switched to an exterior shot of the meat packing plant and two uniformed men running away from a large metal garage door that then blew up and the team rushed in through the smoke.

The next section showed the team moving down the corridor to a meat locker or freezer that had been locked with a meat hook. The door opened and there stood Bryce Larkin, open mouthed scream forever unheard and Chuck's first handler and supposed 'lover', Robin Thorne. "Good move, Chuck. Freeze the bastards solid. Payback is a bitch, isn't it, you bastards. See the 3rd guy on the meat hook? Chuck took him down then hung him up. Cool." Ellie looked at Sarah and wondered if this had been such a good idea. She seemed to be delighted with her brother's destruction of those people.

As if reading her mind, Sarah took her hand and gave it a squeeze. "Ellie, you just don't understand. This is our life. Was our life. Chuck never wanted to hurt anyone, Ellie. He was a kind and gentle man who had to make some hard decisions. He was the best one for the job. At least Larkin got that right."

"I hope that bitch Thorne suffered. She was like a sister to me. I thought she loved my brother. He did too. He told me she knew he didn't love her but she didn't care. And then one morning, she was gone."

Sarah backed up the video and then followed the team up the corridor. She sobbed but kept it together when she saw the red stripe and bloody handprints that marked Chuck's progress down the corridor.

The scene switched to the lunch room and the three dead Fulcrum agents covered in ice. The mist seemed thicker here. "Good shot group, Chuck. I taught you well."

Then the view changed to the corridor again and a huge sparkling ice pile. When the helmet cam got closer Sarah cried out and grabbed Ellie for support. There was her Chuck, her future, her love, dead, encased in ice. The last scene was of a frozen finger trailing a frozen blood trail from a pathetic message 'I luv SW'.

6 Months Later

Burbank, CA

Sarah Walker was reviewing intel digests and watching the clock. Since her resignation from the CIA, the NSA expressed an interest in her continuing on as an officer in their analysis division in Los Angeles. She jumped at the chance since it kept her in the loop with Casey and his new team and also because she could now stay with her new best friend and 'sister', Ellie Bartowski.

Ellie and Devon had split, permanently. Devon would not understand Ellie's position on Chuck and Sarah. As far as he was concerned her brother's death in a car accident in Mexico without possibility of recovering the body was sad but not an event that should affect their marriage plans. Ellie threw his awesome ass out after tucking his engagement ring into his shirt pocket.

Sarah felt guilty and responsible for the break-up but Ellie just flat out told her to shut up that she deserved someone like her brother and she was going to wait until someone who would give up everything for her came along. That ended any consideration of Sarah moving on.

The phone rang and she answered with the usual monotone that seemed to be required of all government gnomes. "This is Miss Walker."

"Sarah, honey, it's Ellie. Can you please come home, right now? I have something to discuss and it's critical. Please, Sarah?"

Ellie never called. Ever. But the one time she called she remembered protocol and gave the safe word, 'honey' and ended with her name. Sarah looked at the clock and smiled. She could leave anytime she wanted and no one would ever say 'boo' to her. Beckman had put out the word, 'Walker is dipped in the Blood of the Lamb. Mess with her, mess with me.'

She unlocked the apartment door, went in and immediately relocked it and threw the deadbolt. She could remember when Chuck lived here. They never locked the door. Now Ellie lived in an almost siege-state. The world would never again be the safe place it once was.

"Hey, Ellie, I'm here. What's wrong? You look like…I don't know. I've never seen you look like this. Talk to me, sis."

"I got a phone call – from Tibet – from Chuck's old teacher and boss. She says she's going to call back but had to speak with Sarah Walker on a private matter. Why would she want to speak with you? Do you even know Ahn –Zhu?"

"Chuck just said she was some really old lady who taught him massage and some weird spiritual stuff. He… he gave me a massage using what he'd learned and it was fabulous."

She sat down at the kitchen table and stirred her coffee. The massage. The beginning of Chuck and Sarah. God, how she missed him.

"Is that what he told you? Hmph. He practically lived there. He studied everything she taught him and he just sucked up the knowledge. I met her, Sarah. She didn't look a day over 40 with long black hair and a body to die for. I knew she and Chuck were sleeping together but I didn't care. His grades were so-so until he met her. Then he never got less than an A. It was like she lit a match under his mind. He was always smart, just lazy."

"She called him her 'Undisciplined Scholar'. How's that for an accurate description?"

"Ellie, Chuck told me she was at least 70 or 80. Did he lie?"

"No. She told me the same thing. Just said she believed in the Disciplines and led a clean life. She also told me her parents were still alive and that her grandmother lived to be almost 180 years old. I just wrote her off as an Eastern Mystic with a large imagination."

"That is, until her phone call. Sarah, I'm so afraid to believe what she said. I don't want any more heartbreak. I just can't take another disappointment in my life right now."

"What did she say? It must have been something for you to call me."

Just then the phone rang. Ellie just handed it to Sarah and stared.

"Hello, this is Sarah Walker."

"Ah, Agent Walker, so nice to speak with the woman who brought such happiness to my Undisciplined Scholar. I have a question for you. Do you still love Charles Bartowski?"

"What kind of joke is this? He's dead. But of course I still love him. I'm human. I'll always love my Chuck, always. Why are you being so cruel to me, to us? What did Ellie or I ever do to you?"

"Please Agent Walker, just three other questions. Do you still have that naughty little iridescent lime green bikini? Do you still hate olives on your pizza? And now do you believe him when he tells you bad things happen when he stays in the damned truck?"

The phone dropped from her nerveless fingers and she fainted for the second time in her life.

**P/N2: Thoughts?**


	2. Chapter 2

**P/N: **Chapter 2…a big thank you to gtpse for sending me the file that makes posting this possible. The actual title was 'Undisciplined Intersect Reloaded' and I'll correct it when I finally post it on Jim's page. I'll also attempt to find the original post date so it can be included. Any one who has any of APR's stuff that isn't listed on his page, I'd love to hear from you. You can contact me using my author name and sending stuff to that yahoo place. JT

**Armadilloi's Undisciplined vs. The Nightmare – Chapter 2**

**Los Angeles NSA Teleconference Center**

General Beckman looked at Sarah Walker, Ellie Bartowski and John Casey.

"She said _what_?"

"Do you still have that naughty little iridescent lime green bikini? Do you still hate olives on your pizza? And now do you believe him when he tells you bad things happen when he stays in the damned truck?"

John Casey covered a laugh with his hand and a fake cough. He believed whoever told Sarah that either knew or, fantastical as it might be to believe, _knows _Chuck Bartowski. He'd told Casey about the bikini. Very interesting.

"Miss Walker, I have run a check on this Ahn-Zhu person. She entered the US in 1959 as a political refugee from Tibet. She remained here until she returned in 2009. That's 50 years, Sarah. And her age on her application for political asylum was 60 years old. And our records further show that an Ahn-Zhu attended UCLA Medical School in 1943 and graduated with honors and returned to Tibet via China to aid in the recovery."

"Either she's remarkably well preserved or something is amiss with our records. Here is a photograph of her that was found in the INS records dating from 1959. She doesn't look a day over 40."

"Do you think it's a hoax? A Fulcrum set up? She knew what she said would convince me he was alive. No one else knew about the olives. No one. And the smart-assed way he bitched about the truck? That was pure Chuck."

"What about the naughty bikini, Miss Walker?"

"It was the only time I ever wore it. I bought it and wore it for him. To impress him. I wanted him to know I was a woman as well as an agent." Beckman tried not to smile.

"And all she said before she hung up was "Come to Lhasa and Road's End and you'll be met."

"Fine. Here's what I propose and Director Graham agrees. We need him back in the field. He's our best weapon against Fulcrum. And he's a formidable opponent, he's shown that. That video… incredible."

"You three have been issued diplomatic passports under the cover of fiancé, doctor and body guard. You are going in search of an extreme sports aficionado who disappeared while solo climbing in the Himalayas and who is the wayward son of an important American Senator. You've been informed that a man matching his description is in a village outside Lhasa. You are going to determine if it's the Senator's missing son and return with him to the United States. The Chinese are willing to accept a small party for just that purpose."

"If it's Bartowski, bring him home, Sarah. You'll have a passport with his bio and information with the appropriate entry and exit stamps to enable you to bring him out. Your plane leaves tomorrow evening for Lhasa and an appropriate wardrobe has been selected and delivered to your respective hotel rooms. Get plenty of rest. The journey from Lhasa to Road's End is by bus, pony cart and then by pony. Once you arrive at Road's End, you're on your own."

**Tibet1 week later**

It took them 3 days to get to Lhasa. It was not a major metropolitan destination, especially in the winter. They flew to Paris, then to Istanbul and later that week caught the Chinese State airlines flight to Lhasa.

After resting for a day to acclimate themselves to the temperature difference and altitude change, they boarded the bus for the first leg of their trip to Road's End. The Tibetan Plateau is an arid and rocky high desert surrounded by highest mountains in the world, the Himalayas. After a while the scenery became monotonous and they tried to sleep through the rough ride. The high altitude tended to sap their strength since it seemed every breath required an effort.

The paved road ended in a small town with an unpronounceable name. The Chinese government had graciously provided a guide and cart drivers for the pony cart leg of the trip. They slept beside the dirt track in tents and Ellie suffered horribly from the cold. Finally, John told her to strip down to her basics and crawl in with him. She was embarrassed but at least she was warm. The two nights they slept beside the cart path she shared Casey's sleeping bag. It was an arrangement that worked.

Sarah lay in her sleeping bag, her mind mulling over what they knew. Chuck died in San Diego and somehow was alive (she hoped and prayed to a God she could not longer believe in) on the other side of the world if his teacher was to be believed. She was amazed that Beckman and Graham had accepted such a way-out proposal on a situation that was, on its face, done with when the empty coffin was laid to rest in a cemetery under a tombstone with the name 'Bartowski' inscribed on it. Things must really be desperate if this was an example of the lengths to which they'd go to have the intersect back.

She lay on her back looking at the stars. There was no light pollution out here and the atmosphere was thinner so there were stars in the sky than she'd ever seen or imagined. She wished Chuck was here to explain to her why it was so. She missed his simple but in depth explanations. '_I miss him. I miss my Paladin so much.'_

**End of the Road (literally)**

The next day they reached the End of the Road, literally. The town was not named, of course, the End of the Road. It had a name you had to swallow and click and stress your voice to tonal combinations not found in English, so they just called it End of the Road.

They found the one and only 'inn' and got two rooms and spent a day recovering from the swaying and rocking of their pony cart leg of the trip. Sarah and Ellie avoided any discussion of 'what if it isn't him' as well as 'what if it is him'. If he was alive then her worldview would be radically altered and all her 'facts' would require reexamination. If it was a hoax, someone or some ones were going to die, most horribly.

The next morning over a breakfast of hardboiled eggs and cheese from an animal they all knew they'd rather not know about, they discussed their next step. They were waiting to be met by a guide or someone who would take them to their next destination.

A small man with a huge grin came into the inn and saw the travelers and approached them and handed John Casey a note.

_**Major Casey, this man is your guide to our village. Please go with him. We shall see you in three days if the weather holds.**_

_**~ Ahn-Zhu**_

"Well, girls, let's pack it up. We have three days travel ahead of us if the note is correct. He handed the note to Sarah who read it with Ellie looking over her shoulder.

Casey almost laughed when he saw the 'ponies'. Their guide helped the women mount and showed them how to hold the reins and turn and stop their mounts. Casey watched and snorted. He pointed to the horse and then to himself and his long legs. The guide laughed and pointed to the pony and made 'get on it, you stupid foreigner' motions with his hands.

When he approached his pony it turned around, looked at him, then at the guide and Casey would swear until he died that the horse just sighed and shook his head. The final indignity was when Casey was walking around behind the beast and it raised its tail and farted at him.

The guide laughed then walked up to the pony, took an ear in each hand and proceeded to harangue the poor beast until it almost looked ashamed. It looked at Casey and sighed and then trotted over to him and stopped. John Casey mounted and was surprised when his feet didn't touch the ground. The horse nimbly set out for their destination following the other three.

**Himalaya MountainsTibet**

They spent their first night in a mountain hostel provided by the government for travelers and climbing expeditions. The temperature plunged and the guide brought the animals in and tied them in a stable area near the sleepers. Between the horses' heat and the charcoal brazier the temperature in the hostel never dipped below freezing.

Sarah watched as Ellie Bartowski huddled against John Casey. Casey had no qualms about wrapping his arms around her and holding her tight to keep her warm. From the smile on Ellie's face, she liked being held by a man she both trusted and respected. There had been a lot of quiet conversations between those two and tonight Sarah turned her back on them as Ellie wriggled around in the cage of his arms and kissed him. Sarah was glad her 'sis' had found someone.

Now if only she could be as fortunate.

Their second night was spent on the trail in the lee of the wind in a natural depression that was surrounded by large boulders. They pitched their tents and when Ellie went to join Sarah, John took her hand and led her to his tent. Sarah giggled as she imagined the warm blooded Ellie dealing with the cold-blooded NSA agent. She noticed that the guide had pitched a lean-to and had the horses under cover but was nervously fingering a wicked blade he hadn't had when the journey had started.

They awoke to find almost 2 feet of new snow covering the trail. They broke camp and started down the icy slope towards what they could see was a large lake in the distance. When Casey tried to ask the guide 'how long' in sign language the guide pointed to the rising sun and then to where it would set. Apparently it was going to be an all day ride to the village.

Shortly after noon Casey noticed that their guide seemed to be urging the ponies on and looking over his shoulder at ominous-looking overcast with clouds racing across the sky. He was obviously concerned with the weather and with their location. He carried this long blade openly now.

The altitude was beginning to get to Ellie and she tended to nod off so Casey walked beside her pony, steadying her so she didn't fall.

It started to snow and the wind began to pick up until it was too difficult to go on. They pitched camp and hunkered down to wait out the storm. Sarah slept fitfully, impatient with the delays and also fearful of what lay ahead for them. Was it really Chuck? Would he remember her? _'Idiot! He remembered the bikini, the pizza and also bitched you out for making him stay in the truck. Of course he remembered you.'_

It was daylight and the sun had just peeked over the eastern peaks and flooded the pass they were in with sunlight when she awoke. The guide was again pointing to the clouds scudding over the peaks behind them and pointed down the trail to the beginnings of the tree line.

It took most of the day to reach the lakeshore and it was almost mid afternoon when they reached the walled village. The weary travelers entered and the gates were closed behind them. Casey was suddenly on the alert. Their guide waved goodbye and led the string of ponies towards a stable and the three Americans just stood there, unsure of what to do.

**Unnamed walled village**

A small figure dressed in heavily padded jacket and pants came towards them out of the shadows.

"Welcome. I am Ahn-Zhu. You are tired and one among you is truly anxious to see someone thought lost but now found. Please follow me. We have quarters prepared for you and after you have eaten and rested, I shall explain all that has happened, at least as best I can. And then, Sarah Walker, I will take you to my Undisciplined Scholar.

They entered a courtyard and climbed up a flight of stone steps onto a verandah that served as entry to a small series of rooms. It was warm and braziers and candles provided light and warmth.

After a light meal and warm chai, Ahn-Zhu turned to Ellie Bartowski and re-introduced herself. "We met at Stanford when Charles left. He came to my shop to say goodbye. Have you completed your studies? Are you now Dr. Eleanor Faye Bartowski?"

"Yes, I'm finishing up my general residency. Is it true you graduated from UCLA in 1943? In Medicine?"

"Yes. Those were difficult times here. The Japanese still occupied the homelands and getting back into Tibet took time. And then a few years after that, the Chinese annexed Tibet and I returned to the States."

Ellie took a good look at the woman claiming to be Ahn-Zhu and then gasped.

"Yes, I have aged a bit. Still and all, very sprightly for my age, don't you think?" She knew what she was thinking. 'How can she be Ahn-Zhu and not have aged a day?'

"The Disciplines serve us well. Our diet, environment and our beliefs combine to enhance our lives and provide longevity. And now, Agent Sarah Walker of the United States Central Intelligence Agency, let me explain what I believe has 'gone down' as you would say."

"It's just Sarah Walker. After Chuck died, I resigned. I now work for another agency, just not in a field capacity. But please, please, continue your explanation."

"'After Chuck died.' An interesting choice of words, Sarah Walker. Yes, he died. And he didn't. He left there and came here. You know how. You have traveled some yourself. He simply came on a much, much longer journey. I remember once when he was very young he came here and returned. He was almost frozen solid, and I called him a 'chicken in a freezer'. You can imagine our surprise when the chicken came home here, to roost. No one has made the journey through our mountain pass in almost a thousand years."

The Americans looked at each other and Casey said "No one came from Road's End to here on the pony trail? Why not?" Casey was looking back at the path they'd taken.

"No, Major Casey, not that pass, _that_ pass." She pointed to a gap between two of the highest mountains in the range almost encircling the lake and village.

Casey followed her gaze and whistled. "That must be 16 or 18,000 feet and then he'd need to cross the glacier. I can see why they take the Road's End pass."

"22,224 feet, to be exact. And yet he came through it, across the glacier with that damned ice axe of his and then into the trees where he was found, hurt, cold and nearly comatose. The woodcutters brought him here."

"We treated him as best we could and it was nearly a full month before he was strong enough to speak. He didn't recognize me and had no memory of his journey. That was a blessing considering how badly your world had treated him. His injuries were certainly fatal but the cold kept him from 'bleeding out' as you would say. Still, it was a very close thing for my Undisciplined Scholar. Very close." Sarah could tell from the look on Ellie's face that what the woman said was true.

"Thank you so much for helping him. He is very special to all of us."

"Yes, he is a very special man, Sarah Walker. And now, I will take you to him. He is very impatient. After a time, I shall come back for you two and you may see him."

Ellie bridled at being told she couldn't see her brother. Casey just sat there wondering what they _hadn't_ been told. He turned to Ellie and whispered, "Bide your time, Doc, she lost him, let her find him first." He squeezed her hand reassuringly and then smiled at Sarah. "Go ahead. We'll just sit here and watch the scenery. 22,000 feet without oxygen. Amazing."

Sarah smiled as she noticed Ellie hadn't let go of his hand but pulled it into her lap and held it in both of her much smaller ones.

A man sat on a bench on the verandah watching as the terminator line of the setting sun raced across the face of the glacier as another day died. He closed his eyes against the glare of the sun on the lake. They were still very sensitive to bright light. Ahn-Zhu told him it would take time to be fully healed but he was impatient to return to his life and his Sarah. He had no idea how he was going to get back. And he was afraid that she'd moved on, forgotten him and found another to take his place. Each time he tried to talk with Ahn-Zhu about leaving she simply did something that proved he was not ready.

"_When you can see with your eyes what you can see with your heart, then and only then, will you be ready to leave."_

He was sitting in a lotus position, one hand drawn into his robe, the other balanced on his right knee. He knew he'd probably need help straightening out his legs and wondered if this was another one of Ahn-Zhu's horrible examples of 'you're not ready yet'.

Ahn-Zhu led Sarah to the verandah and put a finger to her lips. She smiled and shooed Sarah in and then left them to themselves.

Chuck let out a loud sigh of frustration. Without a doubt it was another one of her damned 'you're not ready yet' examples.

Sarah's heart was in her throat. Her hands were trembling and she couldn't take a step forward. She was afraid of what she'd find. What if it wasn't him? What if it was?

She finally walked the 15 feet to the bench and stood behind him. He needed a haircut. And there were gray streaks at each temple. It wasn't him. His hair was dark and curly. This man's was long with gray sprinkled throughout and streaks at the temple. Still, she had to know. She had to be sure.

She put her hands on his shoulders and closed her eyes and began running them across and up to his neck and across his cheeks. Then she leaned down and ran her palms across his chest and brought her cheek to his ear. He felt so familiar.

He reached up and grabbed her hand and flung it from him. "Damn it, Ahn-Zhu, I told you a hundred times, no. I am hers. I am her Paladin. I will find a way back to her even if I have to crawl up to that damned pass. I am hers." His voice sounded like him. His tone sounded like him. His tenor and cadence sounded like him.

Chuck tried to stand but his legs were stuck in the damned lotus. He wasn't as limber as he'd been at 20 and the past months had done little to restore his muscle tone. Still and all, he was much better than when they'd brought him to her on the litter.

She had to know. She walked around and stood in front of him. He looked up but she was between him and the low afternoon sun and he couldn't see her face, just her form. His eyesight was returning slowly. Ahn-Zhu had told him the eyes were always the most difficult.

He struggled to get up but he couldn't move his legs. They were locked in a position 'unnatural' to him. Damn her and her 'you're not ready' examples.

Sarah took note of the man before her. He'd lost his legs and one arm, probably to frostbite. He was having problems seeing or he simply did not recognize her. His face was lined and weathered and she could see his eyes were brimmed with tears of pain and frustration.

"Chuck, is it really you, my Paladin?" she whispered. She reached out a hand and ran her fingertips down his cheek. He couldn't make out her face and he didn't recognize her whispered voice.

"Who are you? Do I know you? How do you know my name? Please, I can't see you."

He should have said that he couldn't see her because of the glare of the sun behind her but he didn't think it mattered.

"Oh, Chuck…" She started to cry. He was blind.

She sat down beside him and put her arm around him and put her head on his shoulder and wept silently.

"Vanilla. I smell vanilla in your hair, Sarah. You still use the same shampoo. I've missed you, Sarah. I'm so sorry for all this. I know I broke my promise but…"

"Shhh. It's all right. We came to take you home, Chuck. Casey, Ellie and I are taking you home, my darling man. Don't worry. I'll take care of you. It doesn't matter at all. I'm just so glad you're alive, Chuck."

"But how did you know where to find me? It's not exactly a vacation spot, is it?"

"Your teacher called us. Ellie and I. We live together in your old apartment. After you died I… oh, I'm sorry, Chuck, it's just that this is all so much to handle all at once, sweetheart. I'm so sorry but we'll be OK and I'll take care of you, Chuck. I have a job with the NSA now, no field work but it keeps me involved with your old team, Chuck."

"Good. I don't want my wife running around getting shot at. It's bad enough I'll be running around being shot at. I'll need a refresher for the intersect, Sarah. I got old and moldy data." He laughed.

She tightened her grip on him. 'Wife?' Her heart soared but then plunged when he said 'I'll be running…'

"Chuck, wife?" She wanted to hear him say it again. Just to be sure she wasn't imagining things.

"Yes. I was hoping after I got back on my feet that you would consider, um, maybe, um, aw, hell, Sarah. I love you and you love me, and don't you want to spend our lives together, however long we have left?"

'…_If I have to crawl …running around…back on my feet…'_

It was just too much for her to handle in such a brief period of time. Crying, she ran back into the house, calling for Ellie, her heart breaking for him.

'_Well, that went well, Chuck. I guess marriage is not a Sarah thing. She wants to take care of me but not marry me? What's wrong with this picture.'_

He thought back to a remark she'd made not long before he'd… gone away. In her hotel room in Burbank. '_I'm taking care of you. It's my job, Chuck.'_

Casey went to talk to Chuck while Ellie tried to calm down a blubbering Sarah Walker. She told them he'd been so brave and was ignoring his blindness and his other handicaps and that he would be back on his own two feet again and how he was going to crawl home if necessary. It made no sense to Casey.

"Hey, Chuck, it's Casey." 'Oh, shit. No legs, one arm and blind. No wonder she's freaking out.'

"Casey, how are you? I see Sarah's a little emotional. I guess when someone says 'Hi, I'm back from the dead, marry me' it tends to freak them out. So, how have you been?"

'_Why do they insist on standing there? I can't see a damned thing because of the glare.'_

They talked for about 20 minutes and then Chuck started rubbing his knees. 'Phantom pains,' thought Casey. He knew enough amps in his time to know what Chuck was going through. He decided it was time for Ellie to come talk to her brother whether Walker was calm or not.

'_I'm back from the dead, marry me? Chuck, you got style.'_

"Ellie, go to Chuck. I'll take Sarah for a little walk. Set her straight on a couple of things. Go easy on him, Ellie. He's got phantom leg pains. Severe ones. The ones that almost never go totally away."

That comment set Sarah off again. Ellie just glared at him. Casey shook his head. Women were a mystery to him. Always had been, always would be.

"Sarah, come take a walk with me. The fresh air will do you good."

"Hey, little brother, long time, no see." She wanted to run to him and just hold him but knew it would not be appreciated.

"Hey, Ellie. How's things? Good to see you, too. I heard you and Sarah are roommates? Nothing going on there I need to worry about, is there?" He was joking. Maybe.

She winced. _'Good to see you, too. Oh, Chuck.' _

"Chuck, Devon and I split up, permanently. And yes, it was over Sarah, sort of. It's complicated, little brother. So, legs bothering you?"

"Yeah, a bit. Better than when I first got here. I was a real mess. Don't walk across a glacier naked. Hell on the feet. OK, sis, cut to the chase. What's going on here? You guys slip in here, one by one, talk a bit then walk out. Well, OK, Sarah ran but you know what I mean. Is it that bad that I'm back? Should I have just let go in the meat packing plant? I wasn't ready to let go, Ellie. Now I'm wondering if I made a mistake."

"Do – do- you really mean that, Chuck? A mistake to be alive?" She was appalled at the thought of her brother being dead.

"Would have made life a lot easier for all of you. Especially Sarah. And, I guess you too now, huh? But then again, it's complicated, isn't it, Ellie? I'll be able to see soon, and walk, too. I don't need to be _taken care of_, either, Ellie."

"I'm 28 years old and I have things to do with my life so you and Sarah are officially off the hook. Seems like Casey is the only one without an agenda here. All I wanted to do was go home, Ellie, that's all, just go home. Now I don't think that's an option any more. Eleanor, I'm tired. Would one of you please find Ahn-Zhu? I'll need her help to get back to my quarters. It was good seeing you again."

Ellie was stunned by his summary dismissal. They'd come all this way and now he was just going to ignore them, worse, hope they'd just go away?

"Chuck, what the hell is wrong with you? We came all this way in planes, a bus, a damned pony cart and finally a damned pony and that's all you have to say? 'It was good seeing you again' when you're frikkin' _blind and crippled_?"

"And how are you going to get home by yourself? Beg for alms in airports like some crippled blind beggar? We came to take you home with us, damn it, and that's exactly what we're going to do. So you just pack your shit and be ready in the morning. And you will…"

"Be silent, Eleanor Bartowski. This is my house and you will not brow beat my Scholar. Indeed, he does not need taken care of. He has almost regained his sight although looking at you in the glare of the sun on the lake that is producing a strain that you would see if you really looked at your brother instead of berating him for his independent streak. It was that streak that kept him alive and sane."

"He is not a cripple, my Scholar, he is a strong and courageous man who I would keep here for eternity if I could. But as I once told him, his destiny is not in my world but in yours. Your companions are looking for you, Dr. Bartowski. Perhaps you should join them. He needs a treatment and rest. We shall see you at dinner."

She signaled two men who came in and picked Chuck up and sat him on a litter and carried down the steps and out the main door.

**Garden Path**

While Ellie was confronting Chuck, Casey and Sarah were walking around the exterior gardens of the home.

"Casey, I just panicked. He asked me to marry him and I – I – I froze. He's the same man he was before I went to Paris, just a little banged up. I can live with that. When I first went to him I put my arms around him and he thought I was that woman. He practically threw me across the room getting my arms off him and he said he belonged to me and that he'd told her that a hundred times before. He said he'd crawl home if necessary."

"That sounds like a Chuckism. Crawling home. He looks older though, wrinkles, gray hair in places. He's been through a lot. More than we can imagine. Sarah, at 22,000 feet your mind begins to die from lack of oxygen. Can you imagine the pain he went through to reach the tree line? He says he'll get his sight back. I believe him. Hell, after what I've seen, I believe he can do any damned thing in the world."

"Casey, I need to talk to him in a more comfortable environment where he's not in such pain. I just want him to know how much I love him and need him. I've got a second chance that no one's had before. I will marry him if that's what he wants. I need him too much to put conditions on him."

"Walker, you have to _want_ to marry him. It's not a duty or obligation. If Chuck even suspects that's how you feel, well, you'll never get a 3rd chance. He doesn't want or need pity. And that's what it sound like you're doing, to me. Pitying him."

"When do you think he'll be ready to come home, Casey?"

"Don't have a clue. We'll ask Ellie and Ahn-Zhu for recommendations. I sure don't want to have to put him on one of those ponies. Not in his condition. That would be hell on earth for him."

"I'll carry him if I have to. I'm taking him home and he's never leaving my side again. I've got money. We'll go someplace and get lost. He's all I have left."

The three met in the dining area where they'd first spoken with Ahn-Zhu. Ellie was angry and ashamed, not a good combination.

"She said he's getting his sight back but that we were standing between him and the sun and the glare was killing him. She also told me to quit browbeating my brother and that she wanted to keep him with here for eternity but his destiny was outside, not here."

"Sarah, Chuck told me he's having 2nd thoughts about having made the trip through the pass. I told him Devon and I split and he guessed it had something to do with you. When I tried to explain he cut me off and said, 'yeah, I know, it's complicated'. He's thinking about staying here. He said all he wanted to do was go home and now it's not an option.

What are we going to do, Sarah?"

"Dr. Bartowski, perhaps you can start by not calling him a blind cripple. He is neither. As I explained, each of you stood in front of him. The glare of the sun off the lake blinded him and caused him great pain. He is still asleep after his treatment and bath. His eyes and legs ache horribly. Why didn't any of you help him to his feet? He was obviously in severe pain. Are you all ignorant savages?"

"But he lost his legs and an arm. And we thought the pain was a phantom limb pain. No one wanted to draw attention to his disability."

Ahn-Zhu snorted. "And you call yourself a physician. Observe the patient's demeanor. Ask questions and listen to the answers and listen to what is not said as well. Do they not teach these skills any longer?"

"He was meditating when you three arrived. His sleep has been very troubled by images and dreams he will not discuss, not in the 4 months he's been able to speak coherently. He was in a high lotus position and he could not escape it. I believe he wished to spare all concerned the embarrassment of helping him. His pride will be his undoing, that one."

"You mean he can walk? Stand?" Sarah was almost in tears. She folded her hands to control their trembling. She knew about dreams and about how susceptible he was to those involving the death of a loved one.

"Of course. He has worked hard to stand and now to walk. It is not an easy thing relearning skills as an adult you naturally developed as an infant. Now, he thinks, Dr. Bartowski, that your estrangement from your fiancé and your comments regarding Agent, excuse me, Miss Walker, being at least part of the cause, well, women have loved women throughout history."

"What? He thinks what? Why? Ellie, what ever did you say to him? He thinks we're, I mean, shit. And he thinks my reaction to his proposal was because I'm in love with his sister? Oh, God, we have got to learn to communicate better."

Ahn-Zhu laughed. "Indeed. It seems only Major Casey treated him as if he were a person, not a cripple or someone less than a man. You spent more time with him than his, than either of these two. What is your impression?"

"He's Chuck. Looks a little older, weary, obviously stressed, but his mind is still as sharp and swift as always. And yes, he still assumes too much based upon too little, but then he wouldn't be Chuck if he didn't. He's still irreverent, truculent and opinionated. But he's more of a man now than before. He's changed, and I like this new model better, although the older one was my friend. I believe he can do whatever he sets his mind to."

"Yes, Major, all that is true. And he's very resentful right now of being treated like a child when he's so obviously not one. He is a warrior at heart, reluctantly. In fact, 'reluctant' is a good way to describe my Undisciplined Scholar. He is reluctant to claim what is his, he is reluctant to harm others, he is reluctant to give offense and he is reluctant to be a burden on those he loves. But he is never reluctant to sacrifice his own happiness for that of others. You should all remember that. You have all seen enough proof of it. And you two, sister and lover, have already benefited from it. Why, I don't know."

"He will not be here this evening. His treatment has exhausted him. He tries too much too soon. He is impatient. And he has paid the price. He will sleep through the night but one of you must be there to interrupt the dreams. You will know when he dreams."

"How, Ahn-Zhu?"

"He screams."

**Chuck's Quarters**

The room was small as was the bed. There were no windows and the charcoal brazier was near the open door for ventilation. He slept naked, on his side, under a thick woolen blanket and an underblanket of some incredibly soft material.

Sarah took off her clothes, pulled her hair into a ponytail and slipped into bed behind him. When she picked up the blankets she saw the patchwork of scars and scar tissue caused by Thorne's whipping. She ran a fingertip along the keloid scars and found it hard to believe one human being could do this to another.

She scooted as close to him as she could, pushed a thigh between his and wrapped her arms around him, resting her head against his shoulder. With a deep sigh of satisfaction she slept.

Sarah Walker was awakened by the scream of a human being in mortal agony. Chuck's back was bent like a bow and his mouth was open in a now silent scream. She saw the muscles in his back clenching and twisting in a hideous replay of his torture. Not knowing what else to do she rolled him onto his back and lay on him, whispering that she was there, he was safe, no one could hurt him again and that he'd killed the scum that had tortured him. She kept whispering her mantra "Chuck, I'm here, you're safe, we're safe, I love you, my Paladin" until he seemed to calm down and fall into a fitful sleep.

She looked around the room and found a bowl of water, a sponge and a towel and knew that someone else had performed this duty every night since he's come to this place. She was grateful for that. No one should be alone with such dreams.

Sarah washed his sweaty body and toweled him dry and then lay beside him in the circle of his arms. "I love you, Sarah, always have, always will," was whispered in her ear and he kissed her cheek and then he fell back to sleep.

Sometime later she opened her blue eyes to be greeted by his brown eyes staring at her. "Why are you here, Sarah, I mean here, here, in this bed? It's OK, I know about Devon and Ellie and you. I figured it out from her comments and by what she wouldn't say. At least you have good taste in women." There was not a whiff of sarcasm in his tone. He really believed…

"Dumb ass. I'm not sleeping with Ellie. I moved in with her to be near you, well, your things. She insisted. Threatened me, _ME_, with bodily harm."

"I sleep in your bed, in your t-shirts and I love your sister, as a sister, nothing more. We have got to work on our communications skills if we're going to be married."

"I refuse to have any one-sided conversations and you better not zone out on me right now because you're bored or something. I know where that pass is now, Chuck, and I'll come up there and drag you ass back to me every time you 'drift off' there."

"And another thing, if you ever, _**ever**_, silently endure pain that I can help alleviate, I'll never forgive you. I, we, thought you were blind and that you had lost your legs and an arm and were having phantom limb pains. Not just me, the dumb blonde, but your dumb sister-the-doctor, and your dumb friend, the big oaf. And speaking of big oafs, I hope you really like him, Chuck, because he's going to be sleeping in the bedroom beside ours. He and Ellie, well, opposites do attract, you know?"

Chuck leaned over and kissed her, slowly putting as much of himself into it as he could. The only parts of their body touching one another were their lips. He was dreadfully out of practice but figured so was she. And practice makes perfect.

Her universe collapsed into an area encompassing their lips and nothing more. She had no body. She had only their lips and for now that was more than enough.

He broke the kiss and just stared at her. "Sarah, you need to leave now. Please. I have to prepare for another treatment. I'll see you shortly at breakfast. Explain all this to the others. I don't feel like another long confrontation with Eleanor. Casey's fine with it all. He accepted me when he thought I was a blind amputee so he'll be fine with me like this. I don't need a dose of EllieAngst this early in the morning. Scoot. I have to dress. I won't be long, I promise."

Ahn-Zhu helped Chuck into the dining area and seated him at the table. His left eye was covered with a gauze poultice and Ellie immediately went into full doctor mode but was stopped by a sharp comment from Chuck's teacher.

"It is an herbal application to aid in the healing of the sclerotic membrane, nothing more. He had severe scarring due to the cold. This should be his last treatment if all goes as it should."

"Cold? How cold?"

"Frozen solid, doctor, both eyes. But his right eye has responded more favorably than the left. A competent ophthalmologist will be needed when you return to the States for a total examination. I do not have all the instruments that are required."

Ellie looked at Sarah. Ellie's mouth was shaped like a big 'O'.

"Frozen solid? Oh, my, how did he find his way down from the pass?"

"We do not know. We can only thank the gods that he did or he would surely have perished from the cold."

Chuck had never told her about his 'help' and had no intention of doing so. He'd seen the hat made from a _yeti_ pelt and would not repay a kindness with treachery. Apparently there had been a constant battle between the two races and he'd benefited from the kindness of one of their enemies.

"So Ahn-Zhu, when do you think he'll be ready to leave? We are obligated to return him as soon as possible. His talents are needed by his Agency and our government."

"Perhaps tomorrow if the weather holds. He will be terribly troubled by very cold temperatures for the rest of his life, I'm afraid. Especially those areas affected by the frost bite."

'_Mexico then if we have to run. Or maybe Belize or Panama. It never snows in Belize or Panama. My husband will not suffer needlessly if I can help it,'_ thought Sarah, filing the information away for future reference. _'And if we don't have to run, a nice long honeymoon in Fiji; I have almost 3 months of accumulated paid leave and I can't think of a nicer spot for his convalescence.'_

"_HE_ is sitting right here, you know? And _HE_ may have an opinion about his future employment. I think I want some time off to rebuild my strength. And for the honeymoon, of course. Wait, I'll need a lot of time to rebuild my strength for the honeymoon and then for the honeymoon itself, and then for the damned government."

There were grins around the table. This was definitely Chuck Bartowski, no doubt remained.

Later that night when Ahn-Zhu and Chuck had left for his final treatment, John Casey took Sarah aside.

"Partner, what do you think? Should we wait a few more days and hope it gets warmer or chance the pass and hurry him home? I have my own thoughts but I want to hear yours. You've seen him, physically, more than the rest of us. What do you think?"

"John, his back looks like someone took spaghetti and threw it all over. The scars are horrible and I could just cry every time I see them because I wasn't there to protect him. I know, he stayed in the truck, but still, I feel so guilty. And proud. He really took it to those Fulcrum bastards. I think my favorite part is when you opened the door and there they were, _corpsicles_. Well, favorite sounds terrible, but you know what I mean."

"Yeah, and I was there. The amount of blood on the floor and on the walls, Sarah, he was running low, almost to the point of being dead and yet he showed such courage and determination. Everyone in the agency should have to watch that damned video when they start bitching about their scratches and bruises."

"What about him on a pony? Possible? And should we plan on more time because he'll tire easily? And what about the cold? More nights on the trail mean more cold exposure. We should probably ask Ahn-Zhu for advice on that. We'll need more rations for the trip also. And probably some of those herbal ointments for his treatments."

"My concern is when we get stateside. You know they're going to want him under a microscope before they let him loose on the population. I've been in government service too long to believe that their concerns are 'humanitarian'. They wouldn't have authorized the funds unless they figured on getting a payback. Know what I mean?"

"Then maybe we ought to split up in say, Paris, and you and Ellie go on and Chuck and I stay behind until we hear just how his reception is planned. I trust Beckman but not the rest of the government. Back from the dead? Cool, let's experiment. OK, we'll split up. I'll need to draw on some 'special funds' I've got squirreled away. If we have to run, I have a few places in mind already. Paris is a good launch point."

"Sounds like a plan. He's been through so much for his country I don't see why he should have to be put through more _by_ his country. Maybe I'm old fashioned but that's how I feel."

"We're agreed then. You tell Ellie and I'll tell Chuck tonight. So, how are you and my 'girlfriend' getting along? You know what she really likes, Casey? When you run your…"

"_**Ack!**_ Go away. It was an honest mistake on his part. But you do have good taste in women." He stood and walked off hurriedly, not wanting to hear any more of her suddenly Chuck-like humor. Well, she _did_ have good taste in women.

Sarah was waiting for him when he returned from his treatment. He looked tired and worn. She helped him undress and noticed that he seemed extremely shy all of a sudden and it hit her like a sledgehammer what his problem was. She stripped and took him in her arms and just hugged him. He was thinner that she remembered, almost scrawny as opposed to the lithe, lanky physique she remembered. Note to self: lots of carbs and proteins.

"Sarah, please don't look at me. I feel so ugly and scarred. How can you look at me with that look in your eyes when this is what's become of me? I can't walk far, breathing is a labor, I can't see worth crap and I don't always remember what I was doing. Sometimes I think not all of me made the trip like that old monk I told you about. Sometimes I think _**something**_ took a bite out of me, too."

"Come to bed, Chuck. I'll keep you warm and keep the dreams away. You'll never have to be afraid again, baby, never. As long as we're together and as long as you still love me, I'm happy and satisfied. You're not ugly. You bear the scars of a warrior who bested incredible odds and won. And you came here, the first in a thousand years. If I had to name you, I'd have called you Conan the Incredible, my Paladin."

Chuck started to laugh but it quickly changed to a hacking cough and he hung on to her for support. Finally it passed and she gave him some water and then pushed him gently down on the bed and cuddled up against him, her hand running little patterns across his chest.

In a small voice barely heard, she asked him about what he'd said to Ellie. "Honey, did you really mean what you said to Ellie or were you just angry and frustrated? Are you sorry you came through from the other side? Do you wish, oh Chuck, I've missed you so much. Everything reminded me of you. And I was so sad and angry that those scum had taken you away from me and robbed us of a life together. Please don't tell me you don't want to be with me anymore."

"You were the only reason I kept going and didn't just let go. It looked so warm and inviting and I just wanted to let go and let it take me but I kept hearing your voice and seeing your face and I turned away and kept going. I want our life together. I don't want to spend any time I don't have to away from you. Please don't be sad. I'm sorry I put you through all of that pain and sadness. I'd do anything to make it all go away but I can't."

"I saw your note you left me in the packing plant. It was so sweet of you. I kept a screen shot of it on my laptop. It kept me going many times when I wanted to give up. I'd say 'look what he did to keep his promise. Can I do less?"

"Let's sleep now, my gray-haired lover. The sooner you're strong, the sooner we can go kick some Fulcrum ass." She loved teasing him about his gray hair. His long gray hair.

"And the sooner I can show you things I didn't know I'd learned. Practical things, Sarah, like making you scream with pleasure and sigh with satisfaction. Oh, yes. I need to be strong and limber." He kissed the top of her head and then ran a finger down her spine, sending tendrils of warmth throughout her.

"Chuck, when we get to Paris, we're going our own way. Casey thinks the government wants to experiment and I won't let that happen. I have money in banks all over Europe and a couple of neat little seaside hideaways in Belize and Mexico. You'll be able to lie in the sand and soak up the sun and get healthy. And when you're ready, I'll show you just how much I've missed you."

"What about your girlfriend? Won't you miss her, Agent Walker?" Sarah lurched and looked to see if he was kidding or not but all she saw were serious brown eyes full of concern.

"Chuck, my 'girlfriend' is your sister and she's Casey's girlfriend just like I'm your girlfriend, remember?" She was terrified of the answer.

" OK, yeah." He seemed satisfied with the answer he gave.

"Chuck, do you know where you are?"

"We're in bed, Sarah."

"Where are we, who's house?"

"Ahn-Zhu, my teacher. And my nurse. And my friend. I'm tired, Sarah. Good night."

"She bit her lip to keep from crying. Something was wrong. Suddenly he seemed, out of reach.

"Chuck, will you be all right alone for a few minutes? I need to talk to your teacher, OK?"

"Sure. But put on clothes, Sarah. Your nakedness is very becoming, but not for the eyes of ought but me." He rolled over and went to sleep. What the hell? She got dressed and went in search of Ellie and Ahn-Zhu.

She knocked on Ellie's door, whispering for her. "Ellie, it's Sarah, we might have a problem with Chuck. Psst, Eleanor Bartowski, Chuck needs you!"

The door across the hall opened and a hastily dressed Ellie asked, "What's the matter with Chuck?" Sarah gave her a quick run-down and Ellie went into her room and grabbed her bag.

"Chuck, it's Sarah. Ellie's with me. Wake up, sleepy head. Ellie wants to look at something." He wasn't responding so Ellie gave him her world-famous ear pinch. No response.

They rolled him over onto his back. His eyes were half open and his heart was racing. "Sarah, go get Ahn-Zhu, quickly."

After a very few minutes, Sarah returned with Ahn-Zhu. "Did he seem child-like one moment and then very articulate the next? Was he having memory problems?"

"Don't be alarmed. His mind is catching up with his physical body. This was very common months ago, less so each passing day. In a year he should be fully recovered."

"A year? How often do these occur and how long do they last?"

"Only when he is very tired and in need of sleep. As he builds stamina, these episodes will become very rare and eventually disappear. Of course, the treatment text was more than 600 years old."

"And if they don't go away?" Sarah was concerned. He was only 30 and this appeared to be almost like Alzheimer's.

"Be thankful for the time you do have with him, Miss Walker. You might not have had even that." Sarah nodded, appreciating her blunt, no nonsense approach.

"Thank you. I treasure every moment since we arrived. It's like a miracle."

Ellie and Ahn-Zhu left together talking about possible problems and remedies. Sarah just got undressed and rolled in under the covers and held him, afraid if she closed her eyes he might disappear.

The dream hit sometime after she'd gotten into a deep sleep. She and Chuck were on the Stockton mission and they were caught in the containers and he left her behind telling her she wasn't able to follow him because she didn't believe in him specifically but them in general.

She woke in tears and he was holding her and whispering that he would never leave her behind and that he would die before abandoning her and that she was his life now, forever.

'_If that isn't a declaration of true love and a marriage proposal all rolled into one… what a way with words,' _she thought.

"Why, Sarah, a compliment? After you thought I had Alzheimer's? I love you, Sarah, so it's all good, no matter what. We'll fill each minute with hours and each hour with days and when our end comes, so will the end of time."

The hair stood up on the back of her neck and her eyes got large as she remembered what she'd _**though**__t_. _'Oh shit, oh dear' as her lover would say_. Oh, shit, indeed.

There were no other dreams that night that she could remember.

There were three inches of fresh snow in the courtyard the next morning and that meant at least twice that much in the pass. Ahn-Zhu told them that the true winter storms would begin any day now and that it was imperative that they left immediately. They would weather the first night within the tree line, the second after traversing the track across the mountain face and the third night in the pass itself. Once they reached the pass the weather would moderate somewhat but they could repeat their overnight camps just as they'd done on the way down.

Their guide was the same smiling fellow and this time there were 4 extra ponies in the mini-caravan. There was also a travois-stretcher for Chuck if it became necessary. Because of the weather, no further delays would be possible.

Chuck and Ahn-Zhu shared a private few moments before joining the others. When they walked out into the courtyard Ahn-Zhu was crying, hanging on to Chuck's arm and he was supporting her. She kissed him soundly enough to piss off Sarah and annoy Ellie but considering her role in bringing Chuck back from the freezer-burned near-dead there was nothing said.

"Sarah Walker, a moment, please." Ahn-Zhu beckoned Sarah to her and turned her back on the others. "I have loved your Scholar since I first laid eyes upon him. His destiny lies out there in your world but his soul will always be welcome in mine. Take good care of him, Sarah. His love for you is intense and all consuming. Do not betray him or allow another to come between you. And listen with your heart as well as your ears for he has much to share with you. He will never leave you, ever. Even when his days are over he will remain with you. My Undisciplined Scholar has much to learn from you also. Do not be afraid to teach him what he needs to learn."

She walked up the snow-covered stairway into the house without a backward glance.

"Let's go. It's getting late." Casey gestured for them to mount and followed the guide out of the village and onto the plain surrounding the lake. Chuck never looked back. Not once. Ellie and Sarah shared a look but each kept their own counsel.

As the grade began to increase Casey looked back at the walled village that he'd found so relaxing and restful. The walls were gone and there was no trace of the buildings. Casey gestured for Ellie and Sarah to look and they confirmed it's apparent disappearance.

"Chuck, the village, it's gone. Is that an illusion or is it…"

"It's still there, Major. Just not in our 'here'. You never asked the name of the town, did you, Casey?"

"Well, considering the other names that required burps, coughs, clicks and whistles, no, since I figured I couldn't pronounce it."

Chuck thought that was hilarious. The guide looked at Chuck and nodded, sharing in the joke. Chuck laughed until he began coughing and pulled his scarf over his face to muffle the sound. Not getting the joke at all, the original three travelers just looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders. Casey kept looking back, sure that the clouds and mist were playing tricks on him.

They set camp at the edge of the tree line and hunkered down for the night. Chuck and the guide talked for a few minutes and Chuck pointed down the slope toward the village and clapped the man on the shoulder and gave him a gentle push down slope. When he finished his task of feeding the ponies, Chuck crawled into Sarah's tent and stripped and crawled into their zipped-together sleeping bag.

"Jesu Christi, Walker, you have cold feet. I never noticed that before. Like little ice bergs. Give them here and I'll warm them up for you. You shouldn't lace your boots so tightly. You need to keep the blood circulating since it carries the heat. And wear a hat, Blondie. 85% of the body's heat loss is through the head. Ever hear 'Hands cold? Wear a hat?' "

He rubbed her feet and listened to her moan. He rubbed each toe between his fingers until it was warmer and the rubbed the soles, ankles and calves. He made sure she was well away from the zipper and its cold air infiltration and then wrapped her in a soft blanket and then held her tightly to him. He pulled the weather flap down over them and set a small opening at each side.

"Warm enough, Sarah?"

"Oh, yeah, thanks to my own personal warmer. God, if I didn't love you before I certainly do now."

"Oh, so now you just love me for my utilities? Bummer. I suppose you'll cast me off when the temperatures reach 80 or so?"

"Never. I'm going to chain you to me and keep my eye on you 24/7. You're mine and I'm yours and don't you forget it, Mister."

"I'm sorry about Ahn-Zhu and the kiss. She's not normally so public with her affections. I guess knowing she'll be dead and I'll be old the next time the gate opens kind of upset her."

"Chuck, what are you talking about? She's only 40 or so. And you're 29. What gate?"

"Review her bio when we get home. Pay attention to the span of years between her comings and goings. You'll figure it out, Blondie cause you're so smart. Just don't overlook the obvious. Now, are there any other cold places I can warm up?" His attempt at a leer set her off and her laughter filled the tent.

"I love you, Sarah. No one else. Put Ahn-Zhu out of your head. Now sleep, little girl. And dream of warm beaches, tall cool drinks, us in a hammock under palm trees making love in the warm breezes with no one within miles. Sleep and dream."

**Tree Line - Glacier Track**

The next morning was cold and crisp and the guide was gone but the ponies remained.

"Well, that sucks. He splits in the middle of the night and leaves us here. Must have had a hot date." Casey did not appreciate his defection and let everyone know about it.

"He had to go home, Casey. It was his last chance. I sent him away last night. He risked a lot just taking us this far. He risked a lot bringing you down through the pass this time of year. A brave man to do it twice. Pack it up and let's move. We don't want to be caught on the glacier path at night."

Six hours had passed since they'd broken camp just below the tree line. Chuck was pushing them hard and finally Ellie had had enough. She was concerned he was needlessly risking his health and she told him so.

"Chuck, enough. You have to rest. Let us take a break and at least cook some hot food. And calm down."

"Eleanor, unless you want your rest to be in the belly of the beast and your hot food to be your last meal, get your ass on that pony and push it up the damned mountain to the pass. You do _not_ want to be here on the glacier face at night. Trust me. I was. I lucked out. You and the rest of you won't be so lucky."

Casey knew that something scared the hell out of Chuck and that it lived here at night. That was good enough for him. "Ellie, move those buns of yours up the damned mountain. You heard your brother. Whatever's here eats beans."

Sarah looked at Chuck with wide eyes. "Chuck, the monk, legs, bitten off. It was true?" It wasn't but it would be a great motivator. He looked at her and nodded his head sagely and shuddered theatrically. That was all it took.

"God damn it, Eleanor Faye Bartowski, get your ass on that scrawny horse and move it. You don't want to be here. It eats _beans_, Ellie, _**HOOMAN BEANS**_!"

Casey looked at Chuck and he just innocently shrugged his shoulders looking for all the world like the cat that ate the canary. "Whatever works, isn't that what you once told me?" It was all Casey could do not to laugh and give it all away.

"Casey, you guys armed?" Now it was Casey's turn to stare at him. He shook his head.

"Chinese said no firearms since we were essentially retrieving a corpse. And they don't want to supply the Tibetan 'bandits' with arms." 'Bandits' was the current politically correct term for resistance fighters.

"John Casey, I asked you a question. Kindly tell me the truth."

"A popgun. A 25 caliber. Hidden in a boot tip when we came here, a steel-toed boot."

"Find it and be ready. I don't know if we'll make the ridge or not before dark. Maybe the noise will scare them off. If not, kill Ellie and Sarah first, then yourself. Trust me, it's the merciful thing to do."

Casey hurried off to catch up with the others and to ransack his pack for his popgun.

Chuck pulled his ice ax off the saddle and slipped the thong around his wrist. It was going to be a close run thing and he hadn't come all this way to fail Sarah now. He took a deep breath and he started another bout of coughing, finally spitting a mouthful of bloody yuck onto the track. He'd worry about his health when he was less likely to be dinner.

**Glacier Face**

The ponies saved them. They were nervous and snorting and whinnying and threatening to break into trots.

Casey had his popgun and Chuck his ice ax. Sarah had her usual arsenal of knives and Casey just stared at her. Sarah handed Ellie a knife and told her to slash, not to stab. "Think of the attacker as a cancer and you have to cut it out. Slash and keep on slashing until it's gone."

The first one came charging down the slope planning on spooking the ponies and stopping their progress. A second attacked Casey and the final one came from behind intent on pulling Chuck from his pony and eating him right there.

Casey shot it through one eye and it howled and shrieked and stumbled over the edge of the path and slid down the glacier face. It wasn't dead but it was out of the fight.

The first beast attacked Ellie's pony, intent on blocking the trail and bottling up the survivors. It reached for her pony with long hairy arms and fingers with hooked nails capable of rending flesh and ripping into the pony's soft underbelly. Ellie slashed at the fingers of the hand reaching for her pony's throat, cutting through hair, fur and bone, severing several of the fingers and causing the attacker to howl in pain and rethink it's attack.

It wasn't a quick thinker and Sarah's knife thrown with uncanny accuracy pierced its eye, partially blinding it. It staggered back a few yards, pawing at the knife and trying to pull it out. It was buried too deeply for a one-handed extraction. When it charged Sarah, still on her pony, she kicked the handle of the knife with the heel of her boot sending it deep into the brain and killing it.

Chuck was wheeling his pony around in circles, trying to keep the attacking beast from pulling him off. He slashed with his ice ax down and across, slicing through the chest and shoulders but missing the intended target, the throat.

He glanced up the face of the glacier and saw two more beasts loping down the glacier face. Oh shit. His pony went down with a slashed throat and Chuck threw himself clear. If he got trapped under a dead pony he was lunch. The stupid beast stopped for a snack, tearing open the abdomen of the pony and pulling out what it thought were 'choice cuts'. "Hey." Chuck hollered and the beast looked up and Chuck stabbed it in the throat with the ice point and then pulled it out and reversed his grip and buried the pick ax in its throat.

He grabbed a spare pony and tried to get on but he and the pony were knocked over by the charge of the second of the two reinforcements. The impact threw him and his pony off the glacier track and onto the glacier. Chuck swung the ice ax and buried it to the handle and hung on by the thong on his wrist. The pony slid down the glacier face and disappeared into a crevasse. The attacker, uninjured but unable to stop its slide, followed the pony into the crevasse.

Casey looked around and saw the final beast skulking towards Sarah and he ran up and thrust the muzzle of the pistol into its ear and fired, killing it instantly.

"Ellie, you OK? Sarah?" Casey was checking out his charges. He only had 4 rounds left.

"Oh, God, Chuck! Where's Chuck?" Ellie was screaming for her brother and Sarah noted the two dead ponies, one missing pony, and one missing future husband. From the amount of blood and the two dead beasts, Chuck had been double-teamed but had killed his attackers.

Casey ran over to the edge of the glacier track and saw the blood trail disappearing into the crevasse. He went to his pony and pulled off his ice ax and went to the edge and looked down for a way to descend and see if he had gone into the crevasse. He leaned out over the edge and heard his friend mumble "Well, here's another fine mess you've gotten me into, Ollie."

"Over here, bring the rope." Casey called to Sarah. He needed to tie the rope off to the pony and then repel down and secure his friend and then have the both of them pulled up.

Piece of cake.

They reached the site of their second night's campsite. They had started with 8 ponies and were now down to 5. Most of their supplies had gone into the crevasse. Chuck's sleeping bag and clothing were on the pony that slid down the glacier face but avoided the crevasse. It was dead and partially eaten by the time Casey had worked his way down to it. He brought back Chuck's sleeping bag, some rations but that was the limit of his endurance.

Between the altitude and the fight, he was out of gas. Chuck, Ellie and Sarah pulled on the repelling line and got him back up on the track. Chuck was very grateful for his sleeping bag.

"We sleep fully clothed, including boots. Sorry, Ellie but you and Casey are in separate beds tonight. We have to be ready to stand and fight at a moment's notice and fumbling around with a frozen zipper is not conducive to living. We'll stand 1 hour watches to maximize sleep and minimize heat loss. If it would snow we'd be a lot better off. The bastards wouldn't be able to smell us. Whoever is on watch, sit up in your bag. Do not lie down. Do not stand up. Keep wiggling your toes and fingers."

Sarah pulled her bag beside Chuck's. "Sweetheart, how's your shoulder? I was so scared when I looked back and you and your pony were gone." She put her arms around him and hugged him. He'd almost dislocated the shoulder, knew the rotator cuff was shot to shit but didn't say anything. What good would it do, and it would just be one more thing for her to obsess over.

"How do you know all this stuff about these beasts?" She was amazed and impressed at how he'd taken charge since the first hint of danger and how he'd motivated them to hurry.

"Ahn-Zhu's people have been at war with these things for thousands of years. Why do you think there's a wall around the town? I listened to the old men and young warriors tell their tales of fierce battles and friends lost and enemies slain. I'll bet when your guide was coming down out of the pass he kept looking uphill at the mountain and at the weather. No one wants to get caught on the glacier track at night."

"But Chuck, you did." She shivered from her fear for him, not the cold.

"Yeah, I did. And one found me." He heard her gasp. "What happened?" She was dreading the tale he might tell.

"He ate me, carried me down to the edge of the tree line in his stomach and crapped me out."

She was stunned for a few seconds and then smacked him on the arm. "You bastard! You had me going. 'Crapped me out!' You're nuts but I love you anyway."

Ellie and Casey had been shamelessly eavesdropping and now were giddy with laughter. The whole terrible day was relieved in a burst of laughter. An affirmation that they were still alive.

Chuck woke up early and went off to do his business and came back and woke the rest of them. The snow around their little enclave had been covered with beast footprints. The ponies were skittish and Chuck was worried. They attacked in the early dusk and in the dark of night. He couldn't figure out why they'd encircled them but hadn't attacked. He wasn't going to ignore the gift of time.

"Let's move. Quickly. There's a storm coming and that means dusk and dark early. We have to get to the hostel tonight in time to fortify it if possible. I think something's pissed them off. Or someone. They don't like losing any more than we do."

They pushed their ponies to the point of near exhaustion but made the hostel with a few hours to spare before dark. It hadn't taken much to motivate the travelers to near superhuman efforts to make their goal. No one wanted to be out on the track in the dark with _them_.

**Climbers' HostelThe Pass**

Chuck was trying to remember everything he'd heard the villagers say about the _yeti._

They were afraid of fire but there wasn't much here to burn except the very structure they'd sheltered in, and that was mostly beams supporting the sod and timber roof.

They brought in the ponies, fed them from the remaining grain sack that hadn't gone into the crevasse. _'Next time I have an expedition, I'll damn sure distribute the stuff better.'_ Too much of one necessary thing on one pony and you were in trouble if it was lost.

Everyone was tired and sore. And afraid. It was one thing to face a human enemy but these things were not, and that unnerved even John Casey, warrior extraordinaire.

"Chuck, I have four rounds left and no spare magazines. If they come again and break through I guess it's the end for us. Ellie, Sarah, you then me. Let them eat dead meat. They'll probably choke on your scrawny ass." Gallows humor. Whistling in the dark.

"Let's take inventory and see what we have. Someone may have something we can use and not know it. I'll check around here and see if there's anything we can use in the storehouse out back. Keep them busy so they don't have time to think too much."

Chuck went out and walked around the structure. There was a pony corral with wooden slats set in stone pilasters, a small outbuilding about 10 yards away and that was about it. The rest was rock and mountain and snow and ice. He walked wearily back to the outbuilding and used his ax to break the padlock. Who had anything valuable enough up here to lock? If it was locked it was valuable to someone. Maybe them.

He shoved open the heavy wooden door and stepped back to allow the waning sunlight to illuminate the inside of the 15X15 windowless structure. Bandits, my ass. They were caching weapons for an attack on the village! Well, they'd have to wait another 35 or 40 years or so for the opportunity. Apparently that's how long it had been since this stuff had been put here. It was old. 40 years old.

He forced the latch on a long wooden case and found 8 Chinese copies of the Russian SKS. Another yielded ammunition and then he found a case of flares and a case of fragmentation grenades. He wondered how good these things were. Would the cold preserve them? He grabbed the smallest case and limped on back to the hostel. 'Bandits my ass'. Another coughing fit slowed and finally stopped his progress. He spat out another wad of bloody stuff and wondered it was at all possible to hack up a lung. He wiped the blood from his lips with his scarf.

"Casey, you and the ladies please go and get the goodies I found in the storage building. I need to sit a bit. Got tired all of a sudden. Must be the altitude or maybe… I don't know. " He leaned against the stone wall and was asleep before his hands fell into his lap.

"Ellie, is he OK or is he sick?" Casey was worried about him. He wasn't strong enough for all this effort and he knew he was calling on reserves he just didn't have.

"Let him sleep. Let's go find what he was going on about. I only caught about one word in three. I think he'll be OK here for a bit alone unless you want to stay here with him, Sarah."

"No, we're all tired and three of us can move his 'goodies' faster than two. And it's moving toward dusk and the wind's picking up. Let's let him sleep and move the stuff."

Chuck awoke with a start and called out for Sarah.

"Shhh, I'm right here. Casey's cleaning the rifles you found and I'm giving Ellie a crash course in hand grenades. You did good, toe warmer. Now go back to sleep. I'll wake you in a bit and we'll eat some delicious bread and cheese all slathered with low-fat yak butter. Yummy!"

"No open-mouth tongue duels for you until you find some mouthwash or Clorox. Yuck." He fell back to sleep before hearing her snarky reply.

The howling wind woke him and for a moment he was back on the track trying to find the tree line. Gravity was on his side and all he had to do was walk down hill. Instead, he walked into a wall and fell on his butt. Sarah was on him in an instant, checking him for injuries.

"Sarah, s'all right. Just got a little confused as to when I was, that's all. Let me up. Is it snowing yet or just high winds?"

She grabbed him by both upper arms and turned him around and sat him down on the small bench beside the brazier. She held his face in both her hands and looked into his eyes, trying to determine if the was another 'spell' or if he was just confused from his abrupt awakening.

"Chuck, do you know where you are?" Standard question.

"In the hostel at the head of the pass. Why? Aren't we? It's just like you described it."

"Do you remember the attack?"

"Where are Ellie and Casey?" Another coughing spell. Sarah gave him some snowmelt to rinse his mouth out with.

"Shhh, they're bringing the last of your 'goodies' from the storeroom. Casey says we should be able to hold off a small army with what's here. How are you feeling? Any pain? Any boo-boos I need to kiss and make better?" She giggled from fatigue and the image of her kissing his boo-boos. A little girl term.

"I'm fine, no pain, and unfortunately…" She became alert and concerned.

"Unfortunately what, Chuck? What? Are you hurt or sick?"

"Unfortunately, no boo-boos. But my lip is a little cold. Warm it up for me, Blondie?"

"Ahhh, you had me worried there. Pucker up, Chuck. I'll light your fire for you." More giggles.

Just then the door flew open and Sarah grabbed one of the SKS's and pointed it at the gaping opening. Two snow-covered figures staggered in with a case of something between them. Sarah rushed over and closed the door and bolted it with the heavy timber. There wasn't much they could do about the small windows and the beasts were too large to get through them.

"Man it is getting cold out there. The wind's gusting and Ellie almost got blown off the mountain. Really bad wind. Think it will keep the buggers home in their caves?"

"Don't have a clue. Never talked about their living habits. Was more concerned with their eating habits." He was tired again and achy. The cold seemed to settle deep into his bones and he shivered whenever Sarah wasn't watching, which wasn't often. He avoided talking since it seemed to prompt coughing and his chest was already congested enough.

Ellie and Sarah had inventoried their remaining supplies. They had food enough to get them to the End of the Road but grain and fodder for the horses was going to be a problem long before they reached the town.

Ellie brought some concoction over to Casey and they sat and shared conversation and the food. Leave it Ellie to gourmet-cook Yak dung.

"Hey, Chuck, din-din is served." She handed him a survival bar from their in-bound rations and a cup of tea. Perfect. She was perfect even if her idea of gourmet cooking was a vast and varied collection of take-out menus.

She sat down beside him on the bench and leaned against him, fumbling around looking for his hands. She had suddenly become a hand-holder. And her fixation on touching him was reminiscent of the first days after Stockton.

"You know what I wish we could have done, Chuck?" She seemed very pensive. And that was unusual. Not that she wasn't smart, just that she wasn't someone who brooded over things.

"What ever it was, we'll get to it later. This is not the end of us, Sarah. You have to believe we'll pull something out of our asses. I have too many places I want to take you to and too many things I want us to do together. Silly things; like going to a county fair and riding the Ferris Wheel and making out at the top. Dumb stuff like that."

"I don't think that's dumb at all. I think it's sweet. And I look forward to getting off on a Ferris Wheel." Oh, she was so bad. And so good at it, too.

"So what did you wish we'd have done?"

"Had a wedding in the fall, outside, with all the people we love around us. Maybe in Napa or Arkansas or Vermont. Someplace off-the-wall but special. And a honeymoon inTahiti or Fiji. Is that dumb or what?"

"I think that's perfect. But I was thinking The Caymans or Belize or maybe even… End of the Road?"

"Is that a proposal, Undisciplined Intersect?"

"Maybe. Depends on how the Blonde Goddess sees it. Maybe yes, maybe no. I don't like rejection. Been disappointed enough to last me a lifetime."

"I want a wedding like I described, not done in some hurry-up fashion because we're afraid of the future. I'm willing to wait, if you are. It's just paper, anyway."

"Well, OK, but Sarah, that last night in California, before you left for Paris…"

"Mmm, yes, my gray-haired lover?" That one incredible night was often on her mind.

"Well, it may seem hard to believe but…"

"But what? Oh, don't tell me you froze _**that**_off? Oh, my stars. Chuck, I never checked. I never thought…"

"No, no, no. I'm just saying it may seem hard to believe but…I can do better, Sarah. Much, much better. And if you think a full-body massage was an experience, well…"

"When you're healthy and we're safe, Chuck, I don't want to leave our bed until I've experienced it all. We'll have room service deliver food and drink and we'll just stay until you've shown me all your tricks. Now, finish that delicious meal I slaved over and get some rest. Day after tomorrow we'll be at End of the Road and we'll meet the pony carts and it'll be easier going."

The next morning arrived with a chilling blast of wind and a blizzard of ice and snow that made travel impossible. The team spent the day lazing around and resting. Ellie brought Chuck a broth and some bread and sat with him while he ate. She'd awakened him and he was less than pleasant. He was so tired and it seemed like each breath cut his lungs and throat like little knives.

"Chuck, Casey said you and Sarah are not coming back with us. I agree with her reasoning. John and I have talked a lot about what you guys do and I'm amazed at what you did before you were taken. I never knew, I mean, yeah, Chuck, I understand now that it was 'complicated' but know that I'm proud of you."

"Now that I've buttered you up, what do you think of John Casey as a brother-in-law? I've only known him since your death, I mean, hell, since you went away, but I love him, Chuck, and he loves me. Is it OK? He's so gentle and loving, not the BuyMore Casey I knew. This is the real John people don't know or see. "

"J – J – John Casey? You and John Casey? _**THAT**_ John Casey? What about your career, your practice? Hell, what about Devon? And just how much time have you spent with him? Stress makes things look different, Ellie. Are you sure?"

"I can be a CIA doctor, it pays better and they'll pay off my student loans. And John's applied for an instructor's position at NSA headquarters but with you back, he wants back on the team. Devon? He's not half the man John is and doesn't hold a candle to my brother. I want someone who'll go to the ends of the earth to bring back a friend, not some surfer boy wannabe. I love him. I'm going to marry him. I just wanted you to know."

"Fine. But don't ask my opinion if you have no intention of hearing it, Eleanor."

"Chuck, I didn't mean…"

"Yes, you did. Now, I'm tired. I need to sleep some more." He was pissed. Not about John becoming a brother-in-law, it was because she asked his opinion without any intention at all of even hearing it. Typical Ellie. Well, she was John's problem from that moment on. He had his own problems.

What seemed like mere moments later, Sarah woke him telling him to wake up and talk to her. He was so tired. Would no one give him any peace?

"Chuck, you really upset Ellie. What did you say to her? She won't talk to me and she won't even look at Casey."

"I simply told her that if she had no intention of listening to my opinion she shouldn't ask for it. She asked me what I thought about John Casey as a brother-in-law but never gave me a chance to tell her. I asked her some questions and she gave me half-assed answers but I never got to give her my opinion. Why ask? Please, Sarah, I'm so tired. Please let me sleep."

"Well, I think you should apologize to her. You've really upset her and she's been through so much lately."

"_**SHE's**_ been through so much? Oh, please, spare me. In fact, why don't you go huddle up with the other members of the 'rescue party' and tell each other how hard it's been and how much you've sacrificed. And let me sleep, please. Dear God, for some peace. At least they let me sleep in the village. I never asked you to come rescue me. I would have found my way home on my own." Whatever else he might have said was lost in a fit of coughing.

She was shocked at the vehemence of his tone and more than a little worried because this didn't seem like him at all. 'He never asked to be rescued?' Well, no, he hadn't. Oh, no, he was regretting his decision to leave Ahn-Zhu.

She stood and walked back to Casey and Ellie.

'_At last. Peace. If one more of them bugs me, I swear to God I'll sleep outside.'_

She sat down on the stone bench across from Ellie and Casey. "You shouldn't have woken him up, Sarah. He needs to rebuild his strength. It's OK, really. He's right in a way. I never did let him give his opinion."

"He's sorry we came for him. He says he never asked to be rescued and that he would have found his own way home eventually. He told me to come back here so we could tell each other how hard it's been and how much we've sacrificed. I think he wishes he'd remained behind with Ahn-Zhu."

"Walker, that's crap. You told us what he said when he thought you were her, about crawling to the pass to get back to you. I don't buy that at all. I think he's just running on empty and needs serious recharging time. Maybe we should take our sweet old time getting back to Lhasa. And maybe Paris is a bad idea. They could be waiting for him in Paris."

"Well, we'll see. No one's going anywhere in this blizzard. We can all use the rest and adding a few days to our schedule won't spoil anything."

The wind had died down to nothing and Chuck woke with the nagging suspicion something was very wrong. The ponies were gone and so were his traveling companions. 'So much for 'I'll never leave you, Chuck'. He sighed. They must have realized their mistake and decided to make amends by leaving him here to deal with the _yetis_ alone. No big deal.

He crawled out of his sleeping bag and pulled on his boots and outer wear and then grabbed his ice ax and one of the SKSs, filled his pockets with grenades and left to walk the perimeter and get an understanding of the situation.

Ellie woke up to an increase in the volume of the still-howling wind and the sudden drop of the temperature in the hostel. Pulling down her sleeping bag from over her head she saw the open door and missing brother all in one glance.

"Sarah, Casey, he's gone. Chuck's gone!"

Chuck unsnapped his parka and pushed back the hood. It was warm and he was sweating from the exertion of just walking around the building and once again he cursed Larkin and Thorne for what they did. He couldn't see any new tracks nor could he see where his former teammates had left. Must have snowed some since he was last out and filled the tracks. He stopped for a while to cough and spit out some bloody mucous.

"We can't go after him in this, Sarah. It's suicide. In this blizzard you'd be lost in minutes. We'll just have to trust that he knows what he's doing." 'And if he doesn't, that the end is as painless as possible.'

He hit her behind the ear on her mastoid bone. Chuck had been right. Took her down instantly.

"Ellie, I'm sorry, but she's wrong. We have to stay together, here, until the blizzard breaks. You have to trust your brother." 'And forgive me because we've lost him without lifting a hand to help him.'

Chuck walked into the side of the outbuilding and was surprised he hadn't noticed it. 'Must keep my mind on the situation. A _yeti _could be stalking me and I wouldn't ever catch the scent.'

He walked along the wall until he found the door, walked in and pulled it shut after him. It was cool and dark and he was suddenly very tired again. He walked over to one of the corners and sat down with his back to the wall and slept and coughed and slept some more.

The sounds of rifle shots and howls of anger and roars of rage finally awakened him. He struggled to his feet, sweat-drenched and frozen to the core. 'How the hell did I get out here?' He was clutching the SKS and swaying. ' Man, I feel like crap. Tired and cold.'

Another series of shots and then howls of frustration. _Yetis_ were not known for their patience. He opened the door to raging wind and snow. 'What happened to the daylight? Did I sleep all day?"

Squinting against the wind he could make out the hairy beasts pounding on the pony door and throwing rocks and chunks of ice at the door and windows.

Not wanting to let them know he was behind them he pulled the pin on the Chinese 'pineapple' grenade and threw it toward the group attacking the pony door. He primed another and threw it where he figured '_he'd _run' if he were them and then a third further on down the track.

The first grenade killed one outright and sent the others scurrying back away from the building and the explosion. He threw the fourth at the shambling group as the second and third grenades detonated, killing one more yeti. The milling survivors seemed leaderless and confused when the fourth and final grenade exploded among them, killing two and sending the rest howling and screaming off into the darkness of the blizzard. He knew this attack had been broken.

Chuck struggled against the wind to reach the hostel and fell several times before reaching the main door. It was barred from the inside and so he beat a tattoo on it with his rifle butt and yelled for someone to open the door.

Casey whipped open the door, grabbed him and threw him into the interior and then slammed and barred the door.

He landed hard on the stone floor and didn't even care that he was hot and sweaty. He'd take a shower after Sarah was done. Right then he needed sleep and something to stop the knives from cutting up his lungs. He couldn't breathe. He was asleep within seconds, exhausted from throwing four grenades and the 10-yard walk and three falls to the hostel.

Sarah rushed over and knelt down beside him. "Oh, Ellie, he's burning up. Do something. His lips are blue and he's struggling to breathe."

"Pneumonia, it's probably pneumonia, Sarah. I have nothing for it but an antibiotic. I should have seen the signs. I should have listened to what Ahn-Zhu said about his recovery. We pushed him too hard. We…" The slap rocked her head back on her shoulders.

"Dr. Bartowski, your brother needs your help. Snap out of it. Take care of him. You're a doctor, I'm just a burnt out NSA has-been. Save my friend. Do your job." He was almost shouting in her face but it worked. She pushed him aside and then knelt down beside her brother who was being held and rocked by Sarah.

"Sarah, help me get him seated on the bench and then we'll wrap him in his sleeping bag. John, pull that brazier over closer and put a lot more charcoal on it. He needs to be warm while we wash him down with snowmelt to bring down his temp. Sarah, once he's upright, take a chance and jerk the door open and fill that bowl with snow. We'll melt it and give him a bath."

Three hours later his temperature had come down considerably and his lips were no longer blue. The wheezing of his breath was the loudest sound in the room. Casey was staring out a crack in the pony door watching two of the beasts feed on a third. Either they were starving or they didn't care about a little cannibalism. He shuddered and then remembered how they had almost broken down the door until the muffled blasts of several grenades had run them off. It was a damned close thing. Where had Chuck been to have so successfully anticipated their attack and to have broken it so effectively? Had he gone out there expecting an attack? Or had he simply gone out to end it all in a 'socially acceptable manner?'

"I know what you're thinking, John, but you're wrong. He was delusional and hallucinating. Who knows what he thought he saw when he awoke? Who knows where he thought he was? The important thing is that whatever he did for whatever reason worked in our favor. I don't think he's nuts. I think he's sick, and tired, and in desperate need of a hospital."

"Ellie, how does he do these things? How did he know? He just walked out and attacked the beasts from the rear just minutes after we discovered he was gone and they hit us from both sides. It's like he knows things in advance. Spooky. First Stockton, then the hive then he gets snatched and dies and then some mystic from freaking _Tibet_ calls you out of the blue and asks if Sarah still has a bikini, hates olives and still loves him."

"I don't know, Casey. I'm just glad he can."

**The Pass & The Path to End of the Road**

They stayed two full days and left on the morning of the third day. The ponies were well rested and seemed to know they were at last going home. Chuck slept sitting up in his saddle, wrapped in a sleeping bag. It was easier to breathe. Sarah rode along beside him, one arm around him to keep him from falling. Even when he was awake he didn't speak. He'd not said one word since the 'Ellie incident'.

She was alternately worried about brain damage from the high temperature, some left over problems from his 'transition' or if he just might be so angry with them for bringing him back that he just refused to talk. She had no idea and not knowing terrified her. A rambling Chuck she could handle. Silent Chuck was another thing entirely. Every time she tried talking to him he just closed his eyes and seemed to grimace.

His throat was killing him. It hurt to swallow even water and eating was out of the question. He'd tried talking to Sarah back in the hostel but he couldn't utter a sound and the pain was incredible so rather than go through that he just kept to himself. He knew there was nothing to be done about it until they reached some semblance of civilization so there was no point in worrying anyone. Besides, they seemed to be enjoying the 'silent Chuck'. Sarah would talk on and on and most of the time it was extremely interesting stuff about places she'd been and places she wanted them to go to together.

He still wondered why they'd come back to the hostel after they'd left. Were the _yeti _chasing them? Was that why they'd returned? He wanted to know but still couldn't speak. He was so tired of hurting all the time and really tired of being tired.

"Casey, see if you can get him to open up. You seemed to be the only one he really talked to in the village. Please find out what's wrong and what I can do to help him. I'm so worried and upset with his silence. I've considered him being angry with us, brain damage, and a problem that cropped up with his 'transition'. I'm scared he's slipping away from me."

"I'll see what I can do. I never knew he didn't like me. I thought we were becoming friends. Guess I figured that wrong. And now Ellie's having second thoughts. The runt is ruining my chances for something good in my life. I'll talk to him alright." He rode up beside Chuck and leaned over to make sure he was awake.

"Chuck, just what the hell is your problem? You walk out of the hostel in the middle of a blizzard, you anticipate a beast attack and blow them all to hell and then you come back and almost die of pneumonia. But first you just had to stick a knife in me with Ellie. I thought we were friends or almost friends. What? You don't think I'm good enough for your sister?"

Chuck twisted in his saddle and tried to talk but all that happened was that bloody saliva drooled down his chin. The more he tried to eke out a sound the more he seemed to bleed and the more filled his mouth. He swayed with the pain and looked at Casey, shook his head and then just turned himself back into the saddle leaning out over the pony to spit bloody yuck onto the track.

Casey had seen enough pain in his life to see it in his friend's eyes and the bloody spit drooling down his chin was evidence of something wrong and unnoticed– again.

He patted Chuck on the shoulder and then slowed and stopped his pony until Sarah and Ellie caught up with him.

"Did either of you look at him when you tried to get him to talk? Did either of you notice the blood oozing out of the corner of his mouth? Did either of you notice how hard it was for him to even try to talk? I think he's got one hell of a case of strep and it's why he can't or won't talk. I had it in the Air Force. You can't talk and if you try you bleed."

He reefed his pony around and then hurried up to Chuck. He pulled his pony in front of his to stop it and then got off and lifted Chuck from his pony and sat him down in the dirt track.

"Chuck, hurts to talk, doesn't it?" He nodded.

"Can't swallow without the little knives and fires tearing your throat up, right?" He nodded again, grimacing and spitting out a mouthful of bloody saliva.

"Neither of the women asked you directly what was wrong, did they? Just talked at you nonstop, right?" Another nod and a shrug as if to say 'what's new with that'?

"And you never mentioned it or made an issue of it because you knew nothing could be done about it, right?" Again he nodded.

"And you didn't want to worry or burden Sarah with something she couldn't do anything about, right?" Again the shrug.

"Well, prepare yourself to be overwhelmed with EllieAngst and Sarah's intense disapproval of your stoicism. She wants to share your pain, Chuck. It's a woman thing I guess. She's worried you just don't want her around anymore. So, you've been warned."

**End of the RoadInn**

"Open wide, Chuck. And don't give me that long-suffering look. I want to see what we're dealing with here. There's an apothecary here and if I can find something other than dried yak penis to mix as a poultice I'll find something. Maybe they have antibiotics but I don't have much faith in it. Ouch, that's the worst case I've ever seen. Drink as much water as you can. I know you can't eat. I'll fix some broth. Stay away from Sarah. You don't want her getting this."

He did all he could do. He nodded.

"Good. I'm sorry about that day in the hostel. You were right. I didn't want to hear your opinion so I just ran over you, as usual. I'm sorry. I'll try to do better. John took me to task on that."

Chuck closed his eyes wishing he could just tell her 'go away'. He was so tired. Always tired. He wondered if sleeping was tiring him out, too.

Just like a train schedule, Sarah appeared and looked very angry but contrite, a simultaneous oxymoron. "I told you what would happen to you if you were in pain and didn't tell me, didn't I? Did you think I was blowing smoke up your ass or something? Right now I wish you were healthy so I could kick the crap out of you for not telling me you were sick. I'm sorry. Told you I sucked at relationships and chatter. Do you still want me around, Chuck?" Chuck's sigh told her nothing at all.

He reached for her hand and put it over his heart and held it there with both hands. When she tried to move it he held it tighter. That's the best he could come up with on short notice.

Her chin began to quiver and tears welled up in her eyes and she buried her face in his neck and sobbed out a long apology. All Chuck wanted to do was sleep.

"OK, Chuck. This is going to hurt but it's what the doctor ordered. Open wide and don't gag up a bunch of bloody yuck on me. I have to paint your throat with this. It tastes like yak piss but it's what we have to work with. The antibiotics here are rather old and ineffective."

He didn't vomit but the sound he made almost made Ellie vomit. Do no harm, the oath said. Not in this place. It was the 10th century out there medically. Once they were in Lhasa she'd check in with the hospital.

Chuck almost enjoyed the pony cart portion of the trip. At least his poor butt did. He slept most of the time between Ellie's torture sessions.

Sarah watched him like a hawk. She knew something was on his mind and she knew the minute he could speak without screaming in pain she'd get an ear full.

She looked forward to it.

**Lhasa, TibetPeople's Hospital & Clinic**

The physicians at the clinic were top-notch with most of them having trained in the West. One had graduated years before her from UCLA and they talked about professors and senior staff they both knew. It paved the way for preferential treatment for her brother and she would have done everything short of screwing the doctor to get her brother the medicine and treatment he needed.

"The senator's son has been through quite an ordeal, Doctor. I don't need to tell you how close to death he's hovered from the pneumonia and then the strep throat. He's dreadfully undernourished and he's been suffering from severe snow blindness and it may have permanently affected his sight in his left eye. He should consult with his ophthalmologist as soon as he gets home."

"As for his overall physical condition, I have seen Cambodians fresh from the camps looking better. He must have rest, nourishment and he will require physical therapy for his arm and leg traumas. The x-rays were rather startling."

"He had four broken ribs, 2 surely would have punctured his lung. His arms and both legs have both been broken but set adequately but his left shoulder has been badly separated recently and will require surgery. Take him home, Dr. Ellie, and see to his care."

When Ellie related this to Casey, he was adamant about leaving immediately. Sarah hesitated. "We need to get him into a decent hospital environment as soon as possible but I worry about our 'reception' in the US."

"I spoke with the general last night, lousy reception but she gave the code word for 'safe return' so at least the NSA won't be hounding him for experiments."

"Casey, do you really believe that when they find out what Chuck has done that they'll just welcome him back with open arms and just let us pick up where we left off?" Sarah was skeptical and getting paranoid where Chuck was concerned. She knew how government worked, she had been an assassin for it.

"No, Sarah. I don't. I think you and Chuck need to go to one of your safe spots directly from here, not wait until Paris. Ellie and I will be fine. We have nothing they want except knowledge of this situation. Just set up a communications method so we can swap info once we get back. I don't think the need for Chuck has dwindled in 3 weeks, if anything it's probably become more critical even though his data is aged."

"We'll use the hotmail and the DocsSeekingDocs message boards to keep in touch. The NSA can't monitor everything, Casey. Even Carnivore has limits. Use the voicemail box for routine matter and weekly reports, agreed?"

"I'll call Beckman later tonight and go over the change in plans blaming delays on Chuck's condition. The clinic doctor had some enlightening news on our boy. Broken arms, legs, 4 broken ribs, all healed, a separated shoulder. He got the shoulder injury fighting the beasts when he went over the edge on the glacier track. That was the least of our worries though."

"God, what were those things? Gorillas? Undiscovered Neanderthals hiding in the mountains?"

"Chuck called them _yeti_. We call them Abominable Snowmen, Sasquatch, Big Foot, what have you."

Sarah shivered, remembering how they stunk but more how they ate their own dead and their poor ponies.

"And Chuck spent time up there, almost unable to move, let alone defend himself, on the track, at night. He won't talk about it though, just makes jokes. There's a lot he jokes about to keep us from asking more in-depth questions. He's not hiding things, I think it's just 'need to know' thinking."

"Have you been able to get him to talk at all? We're lucky Ellie met another UCLA doctor or we wouldn't be outpatient if they saw him at all. Americans are not popular in this part of the world. I'll feel better when we're out of their control."

"He hasn't made a sound. When he's not sleeping, he's 'meditating' in the sun on the hotel room balcony. Ellie says it's going to be a few more days before he starts chattering but that he can travel right now."

"Yeah, I have some questions I want answered about that last attack, Sarah. Things I have to know for my own peace of mind. You know we failed him at every turn on this recovery trip. It's embarrassing to admit that we started failing him in little ways in Stockton and just got worse and worse. Beckman's said the same thing. She's rethinking the whole team concept."

"I won't leave him, Casey, under any circumstances. And I'll protect him with my life if they come to detain him. I'll kill anyone they send, Casey, without hesitation or mercy."

"Good. That's what I wanted to hear. That's what _he needs_ to hear, too. That we're all committed to one another. You, me, Chuck and Ellie. A team, whether they like it or not."

**Lhasa, TibetT'kulut Hotel**

"Hansen, secure."

"Walker, secure. Girl friend, I need a huge favor. I need you to go to…" and Sarah outlined the tasks for Carina. They'd been friends for years having worked on various taskforces in South America.

"Wow. I mean, Sarah Walker, bitch of the bunch, falling for a mark and running away from the Great Game? He must be something special, Sar' if you're going this far. I'll use the usual method and they'll be waiting for you at the American Express office in Athens by the day after tomorrow. I have got to meet the guy who reformed and transformed the infamous Nightmare. When can I meet him?"

"Mexico or Panama, probably in a month. He's been through the wringer on a mission and I'm giving him my special treatment to get him back on his feet. And yes, he is something special."

"But what about you and Bryce? I mean, damn, girl, I thought you two were planning on getting married, quitting the business. What happened to that?"

"Bryce went to work for an unethical competitor and cost us several sales and my special guy outsold his entire network single handedly. He's no longer available for any future sales contests, if you get my drift."

"No shit? Ful… I mean fulla shit. So this one is the number one salesman on your new crew? Got room for others?" She was always trying to get out of the DEA and into the CIA.

"I'm probably going to go independent. Working conditions have deteriorated to the point that you can't trust the head office with a sale."

"I'll take care of the favor. You take care of Mr. Special and I'll see you in a month or so. Be good, Sar'."

**Lhasa AirportLhasa, Tibet3 days later**

"I'll miss you, little brother but I'll be in touch. You take your meds and listen to your nurse. Whatever you do, don't lose this one, Chuck. She's a keeper. And if Casey and I don't work out, I know where my 'girlfriend' will be, so watch yourself."

Chuck just nodded. It still killed him to talk and eating was a necessary nightmare. He hugged his sister and then shook hands with Casey after giving him the 'glare of brother death' and nodding towards Ellie.

"Don't worry, little brother-in-law-to-be, I'll watch out for her. She's mine, Chuck. So tell Sarah 'hands off'." He pulled Chuck into a one-armed embrace and said very quietly, "We'll see you in a while. Don't go off half-cocked and get married without us. Ellie would kill you."

Chuck just looked at him and nodded solemnly and then turned to find Sarah as the NSA agent and his sister boarded their flight to Istanbul with eventual connections to DC.

"Don't worry about them, Chuck. Casey will take good care of her. They're not important enough to be in trouble with the government. They've followed their instructions to the letter. They'll tell them the truth that we stayed behind to allow you to fully recover from the pneumonia and strep throat. And they don't know our flight itinerary so they can't admit to something they don't know."

They took a taxi back to their hotel. Their flight was not until the following morning. Instead of Istanbul, they were flying through Delhi then Islamabad and finally to Athens, Greece where they would change their identities provided Carina did what was asked.

"Chuck, I'm going to run a hot bath and I want us to just soak. I know you're still hurting and I think this will help. And I want to share it with you without any fooling around because I've missed us being together, cuddle-buddy."

She saw his eyes roll and the smirk on his face. She could not wait to wipe it off his face with a night of passionate lovemaking as soon as he was healthy and they were safe. For now, skin touching skin would do. And she was going to tell him the story of Sarah Walker, beginning with her earliest memory and if the tub got cold, she'd just continue in bed. And if he fell asleep, they'd pick up where she left off in Athens. He would know everything about her, every secret she had planned on taking to the grave unspoken; he would know _her_.

She loved European-style bathtubs but the Tibetan 'bathing pools' had them beaten hands-down. There were two pools in each bathroom. One for bathing, with a charcoal brazier actually heating the water through the stone and another for rinsing and 'closing the pores.'

Sarah helped him into the square pool and then got in behind him, letting him lie back against her while she used a sponge to rub pumice soap across his shoulders and arms. She would use her own bath gel on his back and any other place that was injured. The separated shoulder was given extra attention. She did not want to risk causing him any pain.

Chuck sighed with contentment as the heat of the pool soaked into his bones driving out the last of the mountain cold. He pulled Sarah's free hand to his lips and kissed the tips of each of her fingers, her palm and then the pulse point on her wrist. Her sigh was very welcome. How he wished he could speak. He had questions about the hostel and also about her plans for them. He had put himself totally at her mercy as a sign of his commitment to her, to them. He hoped she realized it.

Sarah didn't know where to begin the Saga of her life. There were so many possible starting points that she really didn't know where to begin. Smart Ass would just tell her to begin at the beginning and talk until she was done. This from a guy who hadn't uttered a word since their argument in the hostel. She never would have believed that the tall geek who fixed her cell phone and dismissed her with a look would turn out to be the one for her.

She couldn't wait to parade him around for Carina and watch the look of envy on her face. She'd tell her the entire story, less the Intersect references, and then listen to her various interruptions. "No shit?" "He did _what_? "He's the one who died?" "Abominable snowmen? Have you been at the crack pipe, again?"

She was so proud of her Paladin. The Reluctant Warrior, the Undisciplined Scholar, her Conan the Incredible. She'd have to keep a close watch on him because she knew Carina would have to try and take him away from her. It was just her way.

"Chuck, I was born in Salamanca, New York. My parents were Mike and Deborah…"

An hour later and 20 years into her tale, Chuck slowly sat up and the stood up. He pointed at his prune fingers and then offered her his hand and pulled her up. He pulled himself up over the edge of the pool and then helped her out and led her over to the rinsing pool to 'close their pores'. The cool water felt good and as they poured water over each other from ornately carved gourds, she started to pick up her tale where she left off when he put a finger to her lips and then feigned sleeping. She nodded.

"Boring you, Chuck? Having second thoughts? Plain Samantha Jayne Roberts boring you?" She grinned but wished for the thousandth time that he could speak without pain. Soon, though, and she wouldn't be able to shut him up.

He mouthed 'No' with a big grin then mouthed 'Samantha?' and she nodded. He smiled but mouthed 'my Sarah' or so she thought. She couldn't be sure so she just softly kissed him and smiled and hopped out of the pool and helped him out.

They dried each other off then crawled into the bed. She started her Saga again but he just looked at her and pulled her against him and whispered with a tortured voice "sleep, Sarah, please?"

She hugged him and put her head on his chest and slept. Things were looking up.

**Two Days Later**

The flight from Lhasa to Delhi was almost empty and Chuck slept the entire flight. She was beginning to worry about his excessive sleeping but kept in mind that he'd called on reserves he didn't have to get them safely through the pass. She still shuddered when she remembered Ellie's scream "Chuck's gone!" and how Casey had knocked her cold rather than let her run out and try to find him in the blizzard.

Chuck seemed a lot better when they got off the plane in Islamabad to catch the next flight to Athens. She wondered if it was the difference in altitude or the fact that it was a lot warmer in Islamabad than it had been in Lhasa?

Arriving in Athens, Sarah rented a small Yugo and drove to the American Express office and picked up her two packages from Carina. She opened the lighter of the two and took out two Canadian passports, an AMEX BLACK card, several bank and department store credit cards and several background identity items like National Health Service Registrations, pictures of family members, driver's licenses, and the like and a nice thick stack of Canadian and US currency that she'd squirreled away.

Next she went to Barclay's Bank and withdrew money from her private account that she'd deposited all over the world in anticipation of just such a need. Well, she planned on being alone when she did it. After all, The Nightmare was not the kind of agent to travel with company. She loved international branch banking because Barclay's didn't care about the source of the money, just the amount and that they had branches almost everywhere.

She drove them through Athens to a small real estate office the Barclay's teller had recommended and rented a small furnished two-story house on the outskirts of town in a residential neighborhood favored by American and European companies for their employees. She knew from her various briefings and personal experience that these neighborhoods were very secure and well-policed.

"Well, Chuck, what do you think? It's not the Marriott but it's ours for the next month. Or longer if we need more time. I think I'll need to do some grocery shopping since I don't see any Chinese restaurants or McDonald's."

"Baby, please don't be mad at me but I have a confession to make."

Chuck's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline and he looked really worried. A confession from a professional assassin and spy was not good.

"Chuck, please, I never thought to tell you because it had never been necessary before. We always had… Oh, Hell, Chuck."

"I"

He motioned her to continue and his worried look intensified. His mind began conjuring up a thousand things. Just like Thorne, she was going to leave him.

"I c – c - can't"

His mind was going wild completing the sentence. "I can't be with you." "I cant' do this, it's not right." "I can't marry you." Or his personally horrifying "I can't bear the sight of those scars, I'm sorry, I'm leaving." He wished she'd just quick being so hesitant and just spit it out for God's sake.

"I can't cook. I'm sorry, I should have told you but…"

He started wheezing and gasping for breath and seemed to be staggering. She grabbed him and sat him down at the kitchen table. "Chuck, what's wrong? Can't you breathe? Is this some kind of seizure?"

He raised his head, tears streaming down his cheeks and she saw he was laughing, or trying to, almost to the point of hysterics.

"Fine, Conan, let's see if you can live up to the name – Conan the Cook! I'm going shopping. You stay inside. The courtyard is your new favorite place, old man with gray hair, so go sit in the sun and wait for your young and beautiful mistress to return." She giggled. Making fun of Chuck about his hair was great. Knowing he couldn't snark back made it marvelous fun.

"Sar - ah… kiss…my…assssss." And he coughed and coughed until she brought him a glass of water.

"Serves you right, Conan the Cougher. Stay inside of the compound, Chuck. I'll see if I can find an American-style market. We do have a microwave. Hope you like popcorn."

He shot her the bird and then took what little luggage they had upstairs to the bedroom.

He hurried back downstairs and grabbed her arm just as she was leaving. He made motions like writing and she reached into her purse and pulled out a pen and small notebook, mentally kicking her ass for not thinking of it before.

He wrote 'sunglasses, please, eyes dying in this glare. I love you, Samantha Jayne Roberts, but I love my Sarah Walker more.' She kissed him and left before she either started to cry or jumped his bones, both of which had been a distinct probability if she'd stayed.

Sarah solved the shopping problem by simply driving around until she found a park and then, using her patented Aussi accent, walked around until she heard English spoken and then asked about shopping facilities. She also made a mental note to take some basic measurements on her gray-haired boytoy and buy him some more clothes. They hadn't exactly had a wide selection in Lhasa.

She finished her food shopping and drove home. 'Home' had a nice ring to it. Well, it was a beginning.

"Chuck, I'm back, honey." No answer. She walked over to a table and slit open the heavier package Carina had sent and removed the 9mm Beretta 92 she favored. Carefully making her way upstairs she checked each of the 3 rooms but no Chuck. Damn him. 'Stay in the compound, Chuck.' Simple instructions.

She checked out the rooms on the first floor without success and then walked out into the courtyard but it was empty. She started to panic. Where could he have gone? No one knew they were here.

Again, she checked the first floor and then went up to the 2nd floor. She noticed a door at the end of the hallway that she'd originally thought was a closet and opened it, surprised to find a flight of stairs leading to the roof.

Chuck was on the roof, lying in a huge hammock sleeping very soundly with a secret smile on his lips. The entire roof was a garden with a hammock, table and chairs and beach umbrella and even a little fire pit for cooking or burning wood to hold off the night chill. She instantly knew where they would spend most of their free time. After the pass, this was heaven.

Sarah kicked off her shoes and got into the hammock finding that he seemed to have developed his own 'Chuckdar'. He put his arm under her head and the other around her waist and then snuggled closely against her, the smile widening as he slept deeply.

She glanced around and realized that the roof was screened from all the nearby roof top gardens. Privacy. Cool. She remembered his promise of making love in a big hammock on their island getaway and she figured this was as close as they'd get for at least a month. When he was back in shape…

That night Chuck cooked spaghetti with sausage, a huge salad and somehow made iced tea. It was great and Sarah told him so repeatedly. He just smiled knowing the whole point of her exaggerated praise was so he'd cook for them until she learned (doubtful) or they relocated to a civilized place with a broad variety of takeout menus (highly probable). He even managed to eat a fairly decent amount interrupted only by the occasional coughing spell.

Later she called a voicemail service and listened to Casey leave a message for his sister (Sarah) that he was back in DC but that his plans were still up in the air and his visit would be delayed at least a week since his grandmother (Beckman) showed signs of improvement and was off the critical list but his grandfather (Graham) was still on the critical list after their auto accident. He also said he was bringing along his girlfriend who would explain things a little better. He'd call her again when he had news or by the end of the week.

That meant Beckman was in the loop and had no ulterior motives but that Graham was pressing another agenda, probably unknown but leaning toward bad news. She was technically in violation of her contract since she'd returned to friendly territory and had not reported in. She hoped Casey had sold them on the pneumonia/strep problems. She knew Ellie would provide all the supporting details they needed. As far as they were concerned, Chuck and Sarah were in Lhasa, trying to get him healthy enough to fly home.

10 days later

Chuck was growing bored with the 'good life'. He couldn't read, his focusing on print gave him a monster headache. Contacts or glasses in his future for sure, assuming he had a future.

Occasionally Chuck would wander down to the local coffee house and internet café, cough for 10 minutes before going in and would then spend an hour or so looking up, of all things, recipes. He like surprising her with new foods, new creations and he was expanding his knowledge of wines. The few times Sarah had accompanied him he knew she was bored to tears after the first 10 minutes, so he usually went when she was out or sleeping. She went out a lot, it seemed, without explanation or sometimes less than a 'see you later.'

They had nothing in common except their involvement in the intersect. It was the intersect and the 'job' that was her point of fascination. She was bored and becoming surly. Whatever was going on in the 'private' part of her life was kept from him. So much for 'no secrets'.

He knew she missed the excitement and adventure of the kinds of missions she ran when she was with Bryce Larkin, her ex-fiancé. Sometimes being the intersect was a curse. He didn't need to know about her involvement with that particular person. And he wished he could forget those facts but he couldn't. He wondered if Bryce had come clean and told her about his prior marriage to Jill Roberts? The RatBastard and his whore only lasted 6 months. Must have been true bliss for about the first twenty minutes or so.

Slowly but surely he was losing her and there was nothing he could do to prevent it. One day he'd wake up and she'd be gone, just like Thorne but without the explanation.

She was The Nightmare after all and he was, what? A distraction, an anvil around her neck. Maybe he should just contact Beckman and go in to the nearest facility, probably in Athens, and just get it over with. He should have either stayed in the village or not have come across at all. Everyone would have been better off if he'd just died and been done with it.

Sarah Walker, former agent for the CIA and a former (she was fairly sure) intelligence analyst for the NSA sat in the park deep in thought. She'd made herself a promise to tell Chuck everything about her, and she was struggling to find the words to tell him of her last 5 years. Everything between her 20th and 25th birthdays was pretty clean and plain but after that the woman who'd been Samantha Jayne Roberts was pretty much expunged from the psyche of Sarah Walker aka The Nightmare.

She'd been coming here for 6 days now, struggling with it. She couldn't do it back at the house they'd rented and she had to get it right the first time. She knew he'd be horrified at some of the things she'd done, for her country and for herself, but she'd made herself a promise and told him that they'd have no secrets. Now she wished she'd just kept her mouth shut and let him love the Sarah who'd emerged from The Nightmare after Stockton.

She knew he was worried and concerned with these frequent absences but she had to do this. She wanted what the women in this park had and took for granted: family, children, husband, a future. Sighing, she walked back to the Yugo and drove back to the house. She loved the house and she loved the life they'd been living, even if it was only temporary. And she desperately loved the man who'd made it all possible, who'd beaten death itself to come back to her.

"Chuck, I'm back. I think we need to talk, OK? Chuck?"

"Yes, Sarah, I agree. We do need to talk." He'd just lay it all out and ask her to answer what she could and they'd deal with what she couldn't.

"OK, but I want to go first. I have to finish what I started and I don't want to stop until it's all been said and I've answered your questions. Then we can have 'your' talk, agreed?"

"Sure. Hammock, 5 minutes?"

"Make it 10 lover, I want to shower."

"Ok, Chuck, this is the last installment. I've been going to the park everyday thinking about how I was going to explain all that had happened in the last 5 years and I figured just telling it as it happened would be best. So, in 2004 I was partnered with your old buddy, the corpsicle, Bryce Larkin.

Forty minutes later Chuck demanded she stop.

"Stop, Sarah, please, no more. That's not who you are, that's who you were. No more. Nightmare died in that damned container. I know because I killed her. I just untwisted your mind, sent you to a safe place and she was gone. No more hating yourself, no more self-loathing. No more blaming yourself for Bryce's defection. No more hating Bryce, either. Let it all go, Sarah. You have to. You're better than that. Please, Samantha, Sarah, whoever. Let it all go."

She'd been sobbing into his shirt for the past 5 minutes. Now she just looked at him. "What do you mean, you untwisted her? What did you do to me? Why?"

"You were hurting. I know what you were planning. I couldn't let you do it anymore than you could have let me go out into that blizzard and bushwhack those yeti. You were a little crazy, Sarah. You had to be to do the jobs you were given. I had to be to keep you people safe. Now we're ok. You know I'm right, Sarah."

"Now it's our time, Chuck and Sarah time. No more secrets, no more plans and plots. We just do what we have to keep us together. Agreed?"

"Agreed. Now it's your turn, gray hair. By the way, is this, um, permanent?" She was becoming addicted to his gray hair. Distinguished.

"I don't know. Maybe it's a trauma thing. Maybe it's a small price to pay for being alive. I don't know. Why? Feel self-conscious running with a man twice your age?"

"No. Not at all. It makes you look, I don't know, distinguished. But we have to cut the hair, Chuck. That's so 60ish. So, what did you want to ask?" His throat still hurt and he was drinking water. Whizz break soon.

"Why did you leave me alone at the Hostel and then come back? You left because I basically threw you out for your own protection but why did you come back?"

"Chuck, we never left you, ever. You argued with Ellie and then with me and then you either passed out or just went to sleep. Next thing I knew Ellie was screaming you were gone and the door was open and the wind had picked up speed and it was a damned blizzard out there. Casey put me down with that damned 'Chuck punch' of yours to keep me from going out into what was probably certain death."

"No, there was not wind. It had snowed but you were definitely gone. I went out and it was almost warm. It was daylight, Sarah. And it was sunny. I went over to the storehouse to see if you left anything. You guys took all the food. And I got tired and went to sleep. I heard shots and the _yeti_ so I just fragged them and then got back in the hostel."

"That last part is exactly like it happened but Chuck, it couldn't have been sunny, it was 3am. The _yeti _don't attack in daylight, you said so yourself."

Now Chuck was confused. Another false memory or was it something else? He just dismissed the whole issue and moved on. He couldn't change his past or hers. But he _knew_ it was sunny and there'd been no blizzard. He'd have been a Chucksicle for sure.

"Chuck, if you got caught on the glacier track when you came down from the pass, how did you survive?" She didn't want to hear his lame joke again.

He closed his eyes and shuddered. "I don't remember." He was lying and she knew it but let it go. He was alive now and that was what mattered. But two broken legs? Two broken arms? Broken ribs? Must have been one hell of a fight.

"How's your shoulder, by the way? You know the doctor in Lhasa says you'll need surgery to repair the torn rotator cuff, don't you?" She wasn't sure what he'd remember and if he'd even been told. Casey had been pretty rattled about the x-rays. Part of his briefing when assigned to the intersect had been his physical and medical records. He'd never broken anything except for an arm according to his records. So either Larkin and Thorne had beaten him severely or something else had happened.

"Sarah, I don't know which memories are real and which are 'wishful thinking' or were created by my subconscious to protect me. You'll have to be very understanding if I ask about details of things that never happened, OK? This is really freaking me out. I thought I was rattled after Stockton but this, this is so…" He started to shudder and then tremble and Sarah knew it was time to end 'Truth or Dare' time for today.

"Shhh, Take a deep breath and just relax. We're in sunny Greece, in a hammock on a rooftop of our own, no missions, no secrets, just us. Now, relax, Chuck, the _yeti _are history, the pass is history, the packing plant is history and the Stockton thing is history. It's our now-time."

She ran her fingers through his hair and giggled. "You know, you cut me off at the knees that day in the BuyMore when I gave you the code phrase. I hated you intensely at that moment. And now look at me… lusting after some poor old man with gray hair who happens to hold my heart. Life sure is strange, Chuck."

A phone call two weeks later proved Sarah's statement to be true.

"Walker, secure."

"Casey. Wrap it up there and bring our hero home. Grandpa passed away from his injuries and Grandma needs our help running the farm. Especially the plowing. We need to get the seed planted if there's going to be any harvest this year at all. And she's got new livestock that needs tending to also."

"Sorry to hear about Grandpa. How's Grandma taking it?"

"Sarah, not well. She expected a _**ful**_l recovery but life's funny. He just _**crum**_bled away."

"We'll be in DC in 2 or 3 days. Tell Grandma her 1 plowman is raring to go. I'll call again with details. How's the girlfriend? Is it serious between you two?"

"She's fine and yes, it's serious. But I don't know how her brother survived some of her moods. Take care and we'll see you in DC."

Sarah explained the conversation to Chuck as succinctly as possible to avoid having unnecessary conversation. She didn't like him straining his voice to speak and his voice timbre bothered her. It had changed and she hadn't adjusted to it yet. She'd miss his girly screams, although not the reasons.

"So Fulcrum nailed Graham or Graham is Fulcrum? You could take it either way, you know?"

"Uh, I hadn't thought of that. I just assumed Fulcrum got him from the context. I'll talk to Casey again tomorrow when our trip info is finalized. You are absolutely sure you're ready to go back to work? It's only been 4 weeks. And your stamina sucks, boy friend. You could use another month running and putting on some of the weight you lost."

"Sarah, please, no nagging. I'm as good as I was before all this started, just leaner and meaner." She chuckled. Leaner, yeah, meaner? No way.

"Sarah, if you're worried, why are you always walking around with that damned mysterious grin on your face? You haven't stopped smiling or grinning for the past week or so."

"Really? How's this?" Her grin morphed into a subtle smile that he knew all so well.

"You mean I put that there? Old Chuck makes you smile like that? Unbelievable."

"Well, since you began demonstrating some of your talents, yeah, it's been hard not to smile." And her smile morphed back into the 'mysterious grin' again.

"If Beckman sees that grin, Sarah…"

"She'll be jealous, curious, but mostly envious as hell. Uh, Chuck, you've never met Beckman in person, have you?"

"Nope, but for a tiny lady she sure in formidable." And scary as hell, too. But he didn't say it.

"Just don't try and 'untwist' anything in her, Chuck. She'll be wound tight, I can guarantee it."

He ran a fingertip down her spine sending waves of relaxing warmth through her back. "Chuck, we don't have time for this, sweetheart. Really, we have to get our reservations, take care of closing up our Greek love nest, don't look at me like that, gray hair, I think of it as that, and I'll always love this place and its memories."

He nodded and then ran his palms over her naked buttocks and she gasped as the waves of warmth spread throughout.

"Ohhh, please, Chuck, we don't have time, baby, we've only got two days to…ohhHHHhhhhummmmmm. That was sooo unfair. You know I can't…"

"You shouldn't be in this hammock, lying on top of me, naked and warm and so deliciously sexy if you didn't know I would do things like this and that." 'This' involved an erect nipple and 'that' was…something else entirely.

"Gray haired old randy goat. We'll take a later flight." God but she'd miss this hammock and it's memories… and interesting uses. She vowed to have one in every house or apartment they ever had.

**3 Days Later**

They left sunny Greece behind and landed in a cold spring rain in London. She'd arranged a one-day layover because she was taking her mantoy shopping for grown-up clothes and London was the place to shop for men's wear.

She bought an extra suitcase for his new clothes and then laid out his clothes for the London to Washington leg of the trip. She couldn't stop staring at him. She'd taken him to get his hair cut like a mother and young child and he'd bitched and complained the entire 50 minutes. He looked like a middle-aged… sex god? No, mature man of the world? No, he looked…edible.

Gone was the ponytail although the stylist almost wept when she told him "it all comes off". "But girlfriend, it's sooo manly and chic."

"Stop mincing around, Marvin, he's mine. And he's so straight you could use it to… never mind. Just cut his damned hair."

Chuck walked out of the shower favoring his left shoulder. She'd tried to massage it for him but he told her if they wanted to make the plane, hands off.

Twenty minutes later he was freshly shaved and dressed. Charcoal gray pinstriped suit, red silk tie and white linen shirt starched unbelievable crisp. Her jaw dropped when he walked out. "How do I look, honey? I feel like it's Halloween and I'm wearing Dad's stuff."

"Oh, my, what have I done?" She had to. It was a life-requirement. She laid a smoldering kiss on him, painfully tearing herself away from him. "Uh, Chuck, you look…nice, really, really, I mean, really nice." Edible.

"Thanks. And I owe it all to you and your good taste. And you taste good, too, Sarah." He winked and she blushed. Damn, he got me again. Definitely not Alzheimer's.

By the time they'd reached their concourse Sarah Walker was seething, her normally ice-blue eyes were a smoking jade green as she shot death-glares at the various women who were momentarily absorbed with HER boyfriend.

When the attendant took his boarding pass and allowed her hand to linger on his, she lost it. "Take your hands off him, you wench. He's mine!" Chuck turned bright red and the attendant quickly turned and greeted the next passenger.

Chuck leaned over and whispered, "Sarah, don't make a scene, please. She was just being nice." They weren't supposed to draw undue attention to themselves; those had been the General's instructions. Apparently Sarah had forgotten them.

"Chuck, I will not have women pawing at you. Please, honey, it's so not going to happen." She was embarrassed herself, but also very territorial, very.

"Maybe you could drop your thong and pee on my leg so they'd know I'm taken?" he snarked back.

She looked at him, shocked, then burst into laughter. "All right, I'll admit to being a bit possessive but you look so good, Charles. And a mistress must take care of her man…" This was said loud enough so that those in the jet way and behind them in line heard it. Deliberately.

Chuck slept through most of the flight, awakened by Sarah to drink and take his pills, then to eat and then finally to deplane. Chuck told her he could definitely get used to First Class. She blushed when he whispered that he was sorry he'd slept since he'd wanted to initiate here into the Mile High Club. Next time, he promised her.

She whispered back that she felt a mile high even when they'd made love at sea level. He just chuckled and wondered again at her constant smile. He ran a finger down the side of her face and she shivered. They were interrupted by a rude woman who suggested they 'get a room' and he replied that they'd already christened all 14 of them at their London house and now were going on to 'the Colonies' to bless their other homes (with emphasis on the plural).

Sarah chuckled evilly and shot Chuck a knowing smirk. He shrugged as if to say "screw them if they can't take a joke".

Casey met them at the plane and did a double take at Chuck. It was the hair. It was steel gray and slightly white at the temples. Casey looked at Sarah with a "what the hell?" look and she just shrugged her shoulders and glanced at Chuck.

"Where's Ellie, Casey? Locked in her room? Shackled to a bed somewhere?" He was kidding, but just barely and Casey was smart enough not to tease him.

"She's interviewing at Johns Hopkins for a job. She's staying here, with me, and she'll pack her bags and follow if we get a permanent home for a while. It's kind of fluid right now. I'll let the General fill you in, Chuck. We might be here for a while."

"Why?" Chuck was direct and to the point and wary.

"Because this is where the Headquarters are located and this is where you've been temporarily assigned, or did you forget you worked for the NSA, dumb ass."

Sarah's eyes narrowed and Chuck just touched her hand and shook his head, 'no'.

Casey saw this and filed it away for future reference. She was taking 'protective detail' stances. Very good. He didn't know she was protecting him from all of 'them', those women with their naked lust so evident in her eyes.

"Where will we be staying, Casey?" Sarah got down to basics quickly.

"Chuck will be in Medical and I suppose you'll get some VIP quarters or just use your DC apartment."

"Chuck will not be in medical. Chuck will be in VIP quarters or with Sarah in DC and commute. We were worried about the CIA and their 'oh, goody, experiment times' and now I'm not facing the same thing with you, Casey. Pull the damned car over. I'm so done with this shit." Chuck was adamant and addressing Casey using the third person emphasized it. Sarah said nothing at all, simply sitting behind Casey with her weapon in her lap, hidden under her coat.

"Chuck, it's not like that. We showed Beckman your x-rays and she freaked out big time. She ordered the full boat on you to make sure you can handle the job and to identify and fix whatever's wrong. It's not an experiment, it's for your own good."

"And besides, Chuck, you don't have a choice." Casey said this with a glance in the rearview mirror. He'd heard the 'snick' of the safety.

"Oh, Major Casey, you're so wrong. I always have a choice." He closed his eyes and began to wander up to the pass.

'_He stood in the mountain pass feeling the cold from the winds and the crunching snow under his boots. His ice axe dangled from one wrist and he started to pull on his ice goggles. The blizzard was raging and he felt the first bite of the cold on his exposed hands and face. He could hear someone cursing and someone else calling his name, begging him to return and to keep his promise. _

Chuck grabbed Casey's open hand, preventing the slap from hitting him. "Don't, Major. I could turn you into a pile of puke with three words. Do not _ever _presume to tell me I have no choice. No prison, no jail, no box can ever hold me. Do you know how far it was from San Diego to Tibet? It was a heartbeat, Major. That's all. Now, let's go see General Beckman. I'm sure she'll be reasonable about things." He turned in his seat and winked at Sarah. "No problems, all right? Just keep it cool, babe." And he winked at her again but she was still angry he'd broken his promise.

Casey looked at Chuck and then at his hand. It was freezing cold where he'd grabbed him.

"We'll have to wait a few minutes. The defrosters need to melt the ice on the _inside _of the windshield."

**NSA HeadquartersFT Meade, MD**

Casey stopped Chuck before they got on the elevator. "Listen, don't pull the same shit on her that you pulled on me. She won't be swayed and she's adamant that you go through a full medical to ensure you're healthy. She's concerned with you as an individual, Chuck, and that's an admission of need from her."

"Also, don't react to her appearance. They got Graham but missed her, but not by much. She's different, more determined than ever. It's personal now, Chuck. Remember that."

Casey and Sarah were told to wait in the foyer office while Chuck went in to talk to the General alone. Casey stared at her for about 3 minutes and then said "Were you really going to use that pistol on me?"

"If you'd hurt him or tried anything, yes. In a heartbeat."

"Thought so. Compromised, huh?"

"Incredibly."

"Happy?"

"Unbelievably."

"He really all right?"

"Getting there."

"Cat got your tongue?"

She smirked. "How's it feel to be on the other end of the stick, Casey?"

"Not good. He talk to you about the hostel? Any explanation you can share."

"Not here. You and Ellie up for dinner? We can get reservations for four at Mystral's in Bethesda."

"Four? Don't think so. At least not for a few days, maybe a week." Casey's turn to smirk.

"Bet?"

"Dinner check?"

"Done."

**General Beckman's Office**

"You have had an interesting 8 months, Mr. Bartowski. Traveled some, died some…"

Chuck just smiled.

"So, you died. You showed up in Tibet and some monk in a monastery brings you back to life and here you are."

"That's not quite the way it happened. I thought Casey's report would be a little bit more…accurate instead of prejudicial. Oh, well, I guess that's Casey. Won't believe what's in his hand even when it bites him."

"Oh, he believes, Mr. Bartowski. I don't." The general leaned back and fixed him with her patented 'I got you know, sucker' stare.

He stood up and walked over behind her desk and grabbed the handles on her wheelchair and pulled her out into the center of the conference area.

"Bartowski, what the hell do you think you're doing?" She was livid. No one was supposed to know about her injuries from the bomb in her car. It was bad for morale.

"Shut up. Do not presume to judge, General, without first-hand knowledge. I'm giving it to you."

He knew the muscle damage was severe and the pain and cramps would be ferocious and would eventually gnaw down the attitude of even the tiny General, slowing any recovery.

"Where does it hurt most? Thigh? Knee? Calf? Where?"

"Right thigh, knee, mostly. Certainly the worst."

"OK, it'll never be as good as it was. Do this to keep the pain at a manageable level; it's what I do. Good, uniform pants. Give you some dignity."

He picked up her leg and began the slow massage he used on Sarah except this time he had Beckman put her hands over his to learn the movements. Long muscle groups required the deepest intrusion and she was gasping with pain by the time he'd finished the front. He rubbed his palms together and then dug his fingertips into the damaged muscle.

"Don't tense up. It's not going to hurt. You have to learn to anticipate the pain and preempt it. Look."

He stood and took off his coat, tie and then shirt. He turned around and Beckman saw the twisted gnarled mass that was his back.

"Muscles grew back wrong, or twisted or not at all and I have spasms and cramps at the most inopportune times. I can't reach my back. I live with the pain. You don't have to."

Within 60 minutes Beckman was a believer, not just in the techniques he learned but also in his ability to relocate. She also understood its limitations. And her hand was still damned cold.

"You can't send armies into another country or spies into locked vaults. It doesn't work that way," he'd told her.

"General, when you're not quite so busy and if you can overcome your shyness, I can work on those legs for you. And teach you some self-massage that will make you able to walk again just like now. Add some pain management tricks, and they are tricks, and you can almost resume a normal life."

"I'll think about it, Mr. Bartowski. Definitely. But you will go to medical, at least for a physical. We can schedule it for tomorrow morning and you and Ms. Walker can have the evening out on the town and be here bright eyed for the exam. NO tests. No tricks."

"Thanks, General. You know, there are times, I mean sometimes, I have memories of things I'm not sure I've done, or haven't done yet. I don't think I'm as reliable as your old asset. But I'm certainly more committed."

She could see the commitment in his eyes when he talked about the packinghouse and the trip up to the pass. He put great faith in his team and they'd come through for him. Or rather he'd come through with them. He seemed older, wiser, more mature but still as obnoxious as when she'd sent him the Nightmare to tame him.

"So, you and Sarah, together? You know that fraternization is forbidden, Chuck. She'll have to be replaced on your team."

"Without her I'm a mental case, General. She's my center. Add to the team, yes, but don't send her away. I will follow and if I can't, there will be no intersect. We'll start the whole dance over."

"There is a solution here. You'd have to marry her and I don't think she's the marrying kind, Mr. Bartowski. Not after Bryce. And I don't think even you could convince her."

"Want to bet a 3-week trip to Fiji for two? Off the books, of course."

"You're on, Mr. Bartowski. I'll enjoy going to Fiji with you when you lose. You've become quite the good looking older man…but you'll have to explain this to Ms. Walker."

"If that's all, General, I'll see you tomorrow." He practically ran out of the room.

Casey and Sarah were stunned to see Chuck buttoning his shirt and pushing in his shirttails and the General's delighted laughter as the door closed.

"Sarah, we have to talk."

"No shit, Sherlock."

The intercom requested that Major Casey join the General. He looked at Chuck with a "what did you do now, numb nuts" look and shook his head and walked to the door, knocked then entered.

Diane Beckman walked around from behind her desk and asked him to sit. She leaned back against her desk and smiled.

"You were right. Absolutely right. Have Walker replaced immediately and transferred to the Protective Division and reassigned to the Bartowski Team effective immediately with the usual pay and benefits. Then go pick you a partner that won't drive the good Doctor to drink or worse and let's get cracking. He'll be here at 8am so have the new agent ready for introduction and interview. Chuck has the final word. Dismissed."

"Oh, John? You owe me fifty bucks, Major. He did use his back to convince me. Damnedest mess I ever saw on a human being still alive. You know he's in near-constant pain, don't you? And he can't help himself. Let Sarah know. That's all, John."

Casey stood at attention then left. Damn him and his mojo voodoo. Fifty bucks. And the General was walking again. Mojo voodoo, cool.

"Sarah, it was either that or she was going to send you away." They were sitting in a pool car and Sarah was taking them to her apartment in DC.

"I can't believe you, Chuck, how could you? I don't think I've ever felt this upset with you before. I mean… you had sex with General Beckman! My God!"

Chuck listened with one ear trying not to laugh. She'd totally misunderstood what he'd started to say. And still she ranted on and on…"Sarah…"

"I don't care what she threatened to do, you should have stood your ground, held a firm position and just told her 'no'. That's harassment, that's illegal. We'll sue her. I'll kill her. She can't do that to you. She can't do that to me! I'll find out where she lives and I'll burn her house down when she's asleep in it. Or, or, I'll poison her with something slow acting and very painful."

"Oh, baby, I'm so sorry, I'm thinking of myself and it must have been so horrible for you."

"Well, no, actually I kind of like the idea. Really. I mean we'd planned on it pretty much from the start once we got over the bumps and everything and it's all coming together now. I couldn't be happier, Sarah. Aren't you happy? Didn't you want this, Sarah?"

She pulled into an underground parking garage, keyed a code and was admitted entry. He looked over at her out of the corner of one eye and saw she was steaming mad. He knew for his own safety that he'd better call a halt to the teasing.

"Sarah…" She threw her door open and stomped across the garage to the elevator. "**Get over here!**" she screamed at him. Looks like the Nightmare has resurfaced. He walked over towards the elevator and arrived just as the door opened. She gestured him in and the turned to face the door.

"Sarah…"

"**NOT NOW**!" She pointed to the security camera.

They got off on one of the upper floors and she marched down the corridor. Chuck knew it was imperative that he stop this from continuing. A joke was a joke but a pissed-off Sarah Walker was a threat to world peace.

She stopped in front of a door and then ran her fingers around the edges. Satisfied, she took out her picklock and opened the door in seconds.

"Forget your key?" An innocent question, right?

"Think, Chuck. If I carry keys, someone might discover where I live between missions."

"Ok, yeah, sorry. Didn't think about that."

"No, and that's your major problem, Bartowski, you_**. don't. THINK!**_"

Now that pissed Chuck off. "Ms. Walker, I did not have sex with General Beckman. I made a believer out of her. I had to take off my shirt to do it. I massaged her leg, Ms. Walker, nothing more. Well, nothing important. Obviously you've formed an opinion about me. Well, guess what. You're being replaced, Ms. Walker, effective immediately. General Beckman forbids fraternization between employees and assets so one of us has to go. And it ain't me, Ms. Walker."

"Chuck…" that small voice. The little girl voice.

"You were so sure I'd have sex with Beckman to keep us together and you immediately assumed the worst and that I was so desperate…of course, I don't think."

"We can only stay together if we got married. And she said you wouldn't, not after the 'Bryce fiasco' and I said you would. We bet a 3-week vacation in Fiji, off the books. I go either way. With a wife or with her."

"You jumped to a conclusion again. Just like in Shangri-La. 'He's a blind cripple'.

"Chuck… please…"

"You professionals are always so perfect, always right, never wrong. You professionals would be _yeti _shit if this non-thinking idiot hadn't been along for the ride. Let me borrow your phone. I need to get Casey to pick me up. I'm not staying here another minute with you."

"I figured that you were serious about marriage, about us. But Beckman said you wouldn't marry anyone after Bryce. Bastard screws my fiancé and ends up marrying her anyway. Then he fucks up my only chance in life for true happiness – after he's dead! There is no justice in the world."

"What do you mean, he married your fiancé?" She hadn't heard that one yet.

"I'm sorry you didn't know that Bryce had married Jill. I never thought to mention it. It was your private business and I had no right to bring it up. She only put up with his crap for 6 months then divorced him. Then there was Kayla, the lawyer, his divorce attorney, that lasted until he went active in the CIA. He divorced her. Then he got partnered with you, I guess. Sorry about killing Bryce, Sarah. You must hate me for that somewhere deep down inside. You were going to marry him so you must have loved him very much. I'm so sorry, Sarah."

Her eyes snapped in anger and before she could stop herself she doubled up her fist and hit him, hard, in the face. He went down and stayed down.

"Oh, what have I done? Chuck, Chuck?" She ran to the bathroom and wet a towel and wiped the blood off his face. She'd caught him on the eyebrow and the bone had split the skin.

Just then her cell rang. "Walker, what!"

"Casey, secure. Bad time? I can call back. I was looking to talk to Chuck. But I have some information for you. He bet Beckman you'd marry him. He bet her a 3-week honeymoon in Fiji. If he loses, he goes with the General. Crazy, huh. He said he wouldn't lose and Beckman said she'd enjoy his company because he'd turned into such a handsome older man."

"Casey I know about that. He told me."

"Did he tell you you're off the team if you don't marry him?"

"What? Marry him or I'm off the team? She can't do that. Suppose I didn't want to get married?"

"Don't believe it. Beckman used that as a threat but he believes it. You've been reassigned as his permanent bodyguard. I have to find a new team member."

"So he's pushing me to get married so I stay on the team? Of course I want to get married but not if he's under duress, true or not."

"Duress. Stress. Sarah, did you know that he's in constant pain, and that it's beyond his control? He told Beckman when he was teaching her his pain massage. He can't help himself, just everybody else, Sarah. He's in near-constant pain but never says a thing. You could have helped him if he'd told you. Wonder why he didn't?"

She looked down at the man she hoped to marry. "Well, trust me, Casey, he's in no pain right now."

"Um, sorry, didn't mean to inter…" He stumbled to get off the phone.

"Oh, no. Nothing like that. He's out cold. He pissed me off and I clobbered him. Didn't mean to, but he told me things I didn't want to hear. Maybe I should be off the team. All I ever seem to do is jump to conclusions and hurt him. I ranked him out, told him he never thought before he did things and he told me I'd be _yeti_ shit if it hadn't been for him. We all would have been."

"He's right. Um, any idea why he hared out on us in the hostel and left us? Ever find out more about that?"

"Casey, he swears he woke up and it was daylight and we'd abandoned him. It was sunny, no wind and he went to the out building and fell asleep and only woke up when he heard the shots. He's convinced we abandoned him."

"He was delirious, Sarah, nothing more."

"Well, he's out cold now. I better see what I can do. You got my address? Maybe bring Ellie over and we'll go to dinner? I'd appreciate a buffer between us right now. He doesn't want to stay here. He knows about Bryce. He knew all the time. But I didn't know that Bryce had been married twice, once to Jill and once to some attorney. So I hit him when he apologized for killing him."

"There must have been more to it than that."

"He said I must have loved him very much and he was sorry for killing him. Idiot."

**Sarah's CIA ApartmentWashington, DC**

Chuck woke up feeling like Cleveland was on his face. He reached up and felt a towel filled with ice on his eye. 'Great. A black eye to explain to the NSA shaman tomorrow. Sarah's toast for sure. Jesus, she sure can punch.'

He tried to get up but his back went into spasms and he just lay back down and waited for it to pass. He'd had several in Greece but had never mentioned them to Sarah. It was easier to just 'grin and bear it' than to go through all that damned angst.

He grunted, as each breath seemed to cause the muscles to tighten more. This was as bad as the one on the lakeshore but then Ahn-Zhu had been there and helped him immediately. Chuck just closed his eyes and thought about anything other than the pain.

Sarah had gone down to help Casey bring up their bags leaving Ellie to look in on her brother. She'd been so mad she hadn't thought about their luggage. _She hadn't thought about their luggage. Hadn't thought. Didn't think._

Ellie stood in the doorway to the bedroom watching her brother handling his pain. She had no idea how to help him.

Casey walked up beside Ellie carrying two suitcases. "What's with Chuck? What's that grunting he's making? More hocus-pocus or are those the back spasms he told the General about today or something else entirely?"

"He's in pain. That's how he's dealing with it. I've seen cancer patients do the same thing when the medicine doesn't touch the pain anymore."

Sarah was lugging in the last suitcase and caught Ellie's remark.

She set down the suitcase and walked into the bedroom and shut the door in Casey and Ellie's face and then lay down next to him and put her arms around him and cried.

"I'm sorry. I thought you knew. I thought Ellie would have told you. Crap, she's told you just about every other thing in my life I'd rather not be known. Wonder why she skipped this one?"

"Were you ever going to tell me, Chuck? Or just let it go on until…?"

"Um, if I answer truthfully are you going to slug me again, Rocky?"

"Will the pain ever lessen or go away, Chuck?"

"It comes and goes. Sometimes it's really bad, like now. Other times it's hardly noticeable. Please don't cry. It's no big deal. I'm more worried about facing Beckman with a black eye. I don't see this op as being long term anyway. Not now."

"I'm sorry. This was my entire fault. I jumped to conclusions about Beckman. Chuck, I'm just suddenly so jealous of other women when they look at you, touch you or stand too close when they talk to you. It's stupid but it's how I feel. And it's embarrassing like at the airport."

"Well, it's a moot point now. I have to go. Again, I sincerely apologize for hurting your feelings regarding Bryce. It was your personal business and I shouldn't have brought it up. I won't make that mistake again." He removed the ice and towel and tried to get up.

"Damn you. Just throw us away because of some stupid remark I reacted badly to. I'm sorry. I thought I loved him, yes, but it was nothing at all compared to what I feel for you. He deserved what he got. He tortured you. He ruined your life. He screwed your fiancé. He's why you're here instead of in California in our bed in our home, Chuck. Don't you dare regret killing him."

She reached up to embrace him and he cringed, thinking she was going to hit him again. 'What have I done to Chuck? To us?'

" Please, I – I'm sorry, Chuck. Please don't go. I need you here with me. I'm your center but you're my life."

"Conditions. I have conditions. These are not negotiable, Ms. Walker. Understand? Hit me again, for any reason, and I'm gone. Forever. Treat me like I'm retarded and I'm gone, forever. Dismiss my legitimate concerns over a mission or your safety without serious discussion and I'm gone, forever. These are not negotiable, Samantha Jayne Roberts. Understand?"

"Agreed. And I'm so sorry. Please forgive me. I have a temper and…"

"I'm hungry. Let's go. Casey's paying. You explain to Beckman about the intersect's eye. I'll be busy being tortured in the name of science."

**Mystral's RestaurantArlington, VA**

Dinner at Mystral's set Casey back a small fortune but Chuck hardly touched his food. Ellie kept staring at his eye then at Sarah then back to his eye. He kept waiting for Ellie to explode but it never came. Instead she sucked down tequila shooters and dared Sarah to match her.

By the time the bar closed they had two drunken girls and a night full of passionate puking ahead. Ellie was quiet but not Sarah. Oh, no. She talked to Casey about places they'd been to, other agents they both knew and the best places for romantic getaways then made the ultimate mistake – she called Chuck 'Bryce'.

It was colder in the NSA pool car than it had been on the glacier track. Chuck let it slide. She was drunk and talking to Casey, not him, she just referenced him. Once was a slip-up but she did it again. "Bryce, sweetheart, wasn't our Cabo vacation wonderful?" Casey looked embarrassed and Ellie was slowly getting mad. She hated Bryce Larkin with a passion and Sarah's references to Bryce with her brother sitting right there, well, unforgivable. But when she looked right at him and called him Bryce with that gushing 'wasn't Cabo wonderful' it was disgusting. Chuck just stared out the window, trying to ignore the whole thing.

Chuck apologized to Casey and Ellie for her behavior, explained that she was drunk, and then carried her up to her apartment. Luckily she had keys in her purse since this wasn't a mission.

**Sarah's CIA ApartmentWashington, DC**

He undressed her and pulled a t-shirt over her bra and panties and set the alarm for 5:30am and covered her. Casey was going to swing by and pick them up. He also placed a bottle of aspirin and a carafe of water on her nightstand.

There was no way he was sleeping with her that night. He didn't know if what she'd done was deliberate or the affect of the booze or just the events of the making his name a component of her subconscious. Either way she was sleeping alone. He found the linens and slept on the couch.

He let her sleep, postponing the inevitable discussion of the previous day and night. He'd slept soundly, no dreams worth remembering, and woke before the alarm. He took as quiet a shower as possible and dressed, waking her by calling her name repeatedly from the bedroom door and then making coffee.

She came for coffee, mumbled something that might have been 'good morning' but he wasn't sure, and then disappeared. At 5:57 Casey knocked at the door and Chuck let him in and handed him a cup of coffee.

"Quiet night?" Chuck looked tense and John figured that part of that was the medical exam that morning and the rest was a reflection of the tension in the apartment. Casey wanted to ask about the previous night but refrained. He'd dealt with an angry girlfriend last night and he didn't want to be reminded of the more eloquent portions of her rant.

"_John, did you see his eye? She hit him. She's dangerous, that one. Never a peep about anything in her history during all those conversations over the months we lived together and last night I saw the real Sarah. And heard the real Sarah. 'Bryce, sweetheart, wasn't our Cabo vacation wonderful?'_ _Disgusting. And he just sat there, never saying a thing, just making sure she was eating and keeping an eye on her."_

"_Ellie, Chuck handled it OK I thought. He's angry, no doubt. But it's not our place to intrude. He may be your baby brother but he's my responsibility in a more immediate sense. He adjusting and adapting. Let it go. They both had a long day yesterday and I'll bet tonight will be longer. If he noticed it didn't bother him. Let it go."_

Casey saw the bunched throw pillows that had obviously been used and stopped trying to get a response from Chuck. He decided if Chuck wanted to talk about anything he'd bring it up himself.

"After medical, you have a series of interviews with Sarah's replacement candidates. Beckman says the final selection is yours. I'd say the General is being extremely supportive. But please do me one big favor. Don't pick one that'll make Ellie jealous. I have enough problems without adding jealous fiancé to the mix. Please?"

Chuck just nodded. Casey wondered if he'd really heard him or if he was on autopilot.

The bedroom door opened and a freshly-showered and made up Sarah walked into the kitchen, nodded to Casey, kissed Chuck on the cheek and stole his coffee and went back into the bedroom for something and then came back out and nodded to the two men.

"You both ready for this?" Casey noted the absolute lack of eye contact and the subtle frost between them. Oh, boy. And he had to spend the day with one or the other of them. Whatever had happened here last night was far from over. Walker didn't have the usual signs of a 'bad Chuck night', no puffy eyes, no tense jaw, no angry silences. This was more like 'bad Sarah night'.

He eyeballed his asset closely and saw a relaxed man with a horrible black eye and a scabbed-over gash that had probably needed stitches or at least a couple of butterflies. 'Rocky' Walker had definitely caught him with a good one. Casey winced when he imagined the General's reaction. Not good. Her prized bull gored by one of the herd. Oh, no, not good at all.

Sarah turned off the coffee, rinsed the cups and killed the lights.

"Traffic's going to be a bitch, John, let's get the jump on the Beltway, OK?"

**Pool Car to Ft Meade**

Chuck sat in the back, behind Sarah. He looked out the window at the passing scenery and tried to make his mind as blank as possible. He thought about his high school friends, about the people in the cars around them and he wondered what normal lives were like? Occasionally he'd kept his eyes closed for longer than a few seconds and Casey would be watching him, alert for a transition state. That's what the wizards at NSA called it, the preparatory period when Chuck 'dislocated'. A transition state.

Sarah finally had enough of the silence in the pool car and turned on the radio. The outside world rushed in as they listened to news of the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, the usual noise about Iran and Israel and of course, the slide of the US economy into the 30s. Nothing seemed to work and economic tensions were high. Doom and gloom.

**NSA HeadquartersFT Meade, MD**

Casey dropped Chuck off at the medical complex with broad instructions on meeting Dr. Bloom and her associates who would probably be waiting, syringes and scalpels in hand, for his arrival. Chuck just nodded, glanced at the back of Sarah's head and got out of the car. He was met by an extremely attractive brunette with very long hair wearing a lab coat and a huge smile of welcome. Obviously Dr. Bloom.

She turned to Casey and demanded an explanation for the previous night. "What the hell was that all about last night, Casey? You set us up for that confrontation at my apartment with the 'late report' and then you stirred the pot with all the dinner conversation. And why'd you have to bring up Bryce Larkin?"

He looked at her and shook his head. Selective amnesia or maybe selective memory. Considering how much tequila they'd both consumed, Ellie had not been sick nor apparently had Sarah. Amazing. Almost like they'd come prepared for a drinking bout. He'd have to think about that some other time.

"Ms. Walker, do you remember discussing Cabo last evening? You brought up places we'd both been and were comparing them, allegedly, as possible honeymoon locations. Do you remember that?"

Sarah nodded for him to continue.

"Do you remember turning to Chuck, the supposed love of your life and gushing '_Bryce, sweetheart, wasn't our Cabo vacation wonderful?'"?_

She paled. Looked at Casey with pleading eyes and finally whispered, 'No, I couldn't have said that to him. Please, Casey, I didn't say that, did I?"

"Yes, and it was the second time you'd called him 'Bryce'. If he's distant today, you have a pretty good idea of why now. And I'd stay away from Ellie for a while. She's not too thrilled with you. Kept looking at Chuck's face then at you and I could hear the wheels turning. And last night I caught both barrels. Bryce and you came as a shock and all Chuck did was make sure you ate and kept half the booze away from you."

She remembered waking to a cold and empty bed but a bottle of aspirin and a full carafe of water by her bedside. But no Chuck and now she knew why. She gave a ragged sigh.

Casey drove over to the main building and told Sarah where to go and that he'd see her for lunch and give her a report on Chuck. He started to go to his first interviews but detoured to the General's office.

"Major Casey, your not on my schedule." She kept a strict schedule. Deviations were rare.

"A moment of your time, regarding the project. When you see Chuck, please ignore the obvious signs of a discussion between him and Walker. The Nightmare made herself known again but I think it's ok now. Please, ignore his face. Best to let it go."

She raised one eyebrow but let it go. She'd learned to respect Casey's judgment.

**Medical FacilityHeadquartersFT Meade, MD**

"Agent Bartowski, if you'd undress and put on these scrubs we'll get this over with as quickly as possible. I know most people hate their annuals and I've mastered the art of multi-tasking so as to minimize the time you have to spend here."

She continued talking as he changed behind a screen.

"First is a basic physical, probably 15 minutes. The long part will be the full skeletals and then the MRI and CT scans. Barring any delays or a third eye hidden in your hair you should be free of this joint by noon."

Chuck stuck his head around the screen and asked, "Are you really a doctor? I didn't get the chance to see your diplomas and 'I love me' wall. Could I see some ID please?"

She laughed. This would be a fun morning after all. From her briefing from the General she'd expected some James Bond or worse, Bryce Larkin, to be her patient. Instead there's this guy with a sense of humor and no agenda. Refreshing. Nothing like her briefing.

"Bartowski is cynical and deceptive and an obnoxious brat with abilities we desperately require. He's been through a lot lately and he's not in the best of shape. I want to know anything and everything about him, physically. I need to be certain he's ready for prime time again. He's also courageous, self-sacrificing and very reluctant to divulge any personal problems. Find them if there are any and report, Doctor. And run comparisons with the earlier reports."

While a nurse did the weighing in and blood gathering, she reviewed his personal and NSA medical files. Someone had obtained copies of his entire medical file up through…date of death! That couldn't be right. Also, he was 29 according to his files but the handsome man in her clutches was at least 40.

"Doctor Bloom, all done. Here are his stats and his initial charting. I'll run this to the lab and wait for the results." She smiled at Chuck and left.

"Very professional young lady, Dr. Bloom. Not one single 'tsk tsk' out of her." He'd been surprised how quickly and easily she'd gathered his information and his samples. This might just be a short experience.

"I only tolerate the best working with me. I'm anal about attention to detail and patient comfort. Now, I need to do a look-see at you, take some photos for the file and then muster you down to x-ray. We're seven minutes behind schedule and I promised the General you'd be free for lunch. So lose the scrubs, Agent Bartowski. I've seen it all before."

Chuck just shrugged and pulled off his scrubs and stood there. The doctor had pointed to a device and asked him to stand between the two panels. He walked over stood between the two panels and a series of flashes signified photography. Again he was impressed and said so. Still not looking at him but at he file, she motioned him to sit.

When Lila Bloom turned to examine her patient she almost dropped her chart in shock. Chuck was standing with his back to her and she got the full blast of his back and buttocks. No human being should ever have been tortured like this. She cleared her throat and snapped on her latex gloves and ran her fingertips over his back. So much deep scarring and so much hate and anger in the scars. Someone had taken a distinct disliking to this man.

She saw the characteristic scars of a coat hanger whip as well as the isolated strand or two of scarring on his shoulder caps and lower back. There were also acid burns on his back. Some bastard had beaten this man and then poured an acidic solution on his handiwork to enhance his pain. The black eye was recent, within the last 24 hours.

"You should probably get a stitch or two for that gash. Run into a door, Agent? Fall down?"

"Something like that, Doctor Bloom. How about we compromise and you just stick a few butterflies to salve your medical conscience? My sister's an ER doc and she's attached here, Ellie Bartowski. I was her victim, patient, brother and I got to help her learn to give injections, stitches but I drew the line at enemas and catheters. So go ahead and do your thing if you think stitches are necessary. Who am I to question 8 years of college and med school and internship and residency and specialty training? I didn't finish my degree at Stanford."

"Please put on your scrubs, no sense catching cold, Agent. So Ellie's your sister? I didn't make the name connection. Still early for me. Not enough coffee yet." When she smiled, she showed her basic niceness. Refreshing. No deceit and no agenda.

"Well, when they whisk me off to radioactive land, feel free to drink one for me, too."

She laughed and shaved a bit of eyebrow off and then stitched the gash closed. She had a gentle hand and Chuck had the urge to just grab it and thank her for not treating him like meat.

"There. Took four but then I suppose you're used to it by now, Agent Bartowski. So how's it feel to have a little sister following you around the career path?"

"Weird. And she's three years older than I am. She's well preserved. All that tequila."

They both laughed although Lila wondered about the age thing. He was 40 if he was a day. Must be a family joke. But the NSA had no sense of humor and the file said he was 29.

"Off to x-ray with you. Don't dawdle, the CT and MRIs won't take long and we should be finished up well before you lunch date."

An attendant appeared with a wheel chair and took him down the hall to x-ray and then on to his CT and MRI.

When he was finished and had been 'delivered' back to the exam room, Lila was waiting for him with two cups of coffee and all the trimmings.

"Go ahead. We're done here and with 23 minutes to spare giving you a whole 53 minutes to explain to me who the hell you really are and what happened to the real Chuck Bartowski." He noticed two NSA men standing in the back of the exam room. Obviously muscle.

Chuck sighed. He figured this would happen. Ahn-Zhu had explained it but he didn't figure it would be so obvious.

"Since I don't want to have to do this 20 times, let's get the General and Major Casey in here, plus whoever else wants to listen. Spare you some time on your busy schedule, Dr. Bloom."

"OK, but you'll have to stay here with these gentlemen while I make the necessary calls."

"Fine. Just quit torturing me and let me have my coffee, please?"

**NSA HeadquartersConference Room**

Chuck sat quietly with his hands in his lap. Handcuffs brought back memories of old times in the meat business. He hated the reminders. At least they'd allowed him to get dressed in his street clothes although they kept the tie, belt and shoelaces and his wallet and iPhone.

"So, General, I compared the x-rays from his original file supplied by Dr. Bartowski to the ones we took here and then I compared the MRI results with the records in his file and on file here at the NSA."

"Two years ago, x-rays of Bartowski show no breaks in the legs, ribs or right arm. Apparently he broke his left arm sometime before the age of 12 based on calcification of the bone break points. Current x-rays show two breaks in the left leg, three in the right, two breaks in the right arm and two in the left. Additionally, we have evidence of broken ribs and a recent shoulder separation that is healing at an astounding rate and a skull fracture that should have been fatal."

"The calcification of the breaks in his legs and arms and ribs definitely indicate that they occurred between 5 and 7 years ago. The body works at a steady pace to build up protection over the break areas."

"Also, he's missing his spleen, several feet of small intestine and a portion of one lung."

"This man is not Charles Bartowski. He can't be unless he's replaced his bones with someone else's. Also, the MRIs do not match. There is an astonishing change in the activity patterns of this man's brain as compared earlier records of Charles Bartowski.

And there have been no surgical procedures performed."

Chuck sat across the table from the General, Casey, Sarah and some others he didn't know. He'd just stared at the patterns on the table top and tried to develop a narrative for the past 8 years. There were things he just couldn't discuss with these outsiders. And there were things he'd have to say that would end whatever might have been between him and Sarah Walker. He figured Casey would just accept it and move on. The General would be more open, but less inclined to be merciful. He should have just accepted death. Easier on all concerned.

"Well, sir, who are you and who do you work for? And what happened to Charles Bartowski? Is he dead? Held captive? Has he defected?"

He sighed and looked up at Sarah. Her gaze met his but there was none of the love and affection usually found there. Now there was hate and something he couldn't quite identify.

"When I was 29, I died from injuries sustained in conjunction with a classified operation in the San Diego area. I wasn't ready to die. I had found something, er, some_one_, who I couldn't leave so I left here and went there. There being Tibet, specifically a mountain pass above a glacier that fed a lake. Beside the lake was a walled village and my old teacher, Ahn-Zhu."

"She knew I was coming, don't ask me how. She and a group of villagers were making the trek up the mountain to meet me and aid me in my recovery. At 22,000 feet the air is thin and cold and by the time I'd gotten down to the track across the glacier it was growing dark. By that time I'd become half blind and my face, ears, hands and feet were severely frostbitten. All I had was a parka and an ice axe."

"I don't know how long I stumbled, staggered, shambled, fell and crawled but I knew I had to get to the tree line before dark or they would be out and hunting. I had no desire to become _yeti_ shit so I tried to run. Big mistake. Near-blind plus running plus glacier equals disaster."

"I ran right into a group of _yeti_ from the rear. They were battling with An-Zhu and the villagers and were losing but dark helped them and hampered my rescuers. I had no choice but to attack them from the rear and aid my Teacher and her friends. I killed two or three, I don't really remember how many, they didn't expect to be hit from behind so it was easy."

"One big brute on the end of the line saw me and attacked. I didn't see him. Shit, by this time I couldn't see anything. He grabbed me and literally tried to tear me apart. I slammed my axe into his mouth to keep him from my throat and it cut through and severed his lower jaw and he broke that arm, then the other and then he grabbed me in a bear hug and broke my ribs and that's when my spleen and intestines ruptured and my lung was perforated."

"He couldn't eat me with his lower jaw gone so he did the next best thing, he broke my legs so I couldn't run and called his pals for a Bartowski buffet. Ahn-Zhu and her friends had taken care of the other _yetis _and then surprised and killed this one."

"I don't remember much after that except I got warm somehow and then there was a terrible argument in the village about saving me and then the healing started. Apparently the argument was that closing the gate would alter their plan but Ahn-Zhu won the argument. After a time, she called Ellie. To this day I don't know how. There were no phones, there wasn't even electricity. My Team and my sister came to get me and well, here I am, Chuck Bartowski, 36 or 37 years of age, time traveler."

"May I have a glass of water, please?" No one moved. No one breathed. No one said a word. Except Dr. Bloom.

"_**Oh, my God, what a load of crap. **_Abominable snowmen, time travel, San Diego to Tibet, first class, no doubt. What a load of"

"Dr. Bloom. Shut your mouth. I was there. I saw the _yeti_. I saw the village. I saw the village disappear as we made our way up the slopes. Ahn-Zhu said they had a schedule to keep. Our guide was worried about missing his ride home."

"Forensics be damned, he's telling the truth. It's the only explanation that is possible. As for his injuries, you've never seen 800 pounds of pissed off _yeti _slam into a 1200 pound pony, gut it with one hand and then throw it aside like a broken toy."

Casey got up and walked around the table and offered Chuck his hand.

Welcome home, Chuck. You're older than I am now, OLD FART!"

"Not so fast, Major. Mr. Bartowski, where have you been if you've been gone long enough to have healed and aged those bone breaks?" Dr. Bloom was like a dog with a bone.

"Not where, Dr. Bloom. When. Time flows differently for them when they slip sideways. I asked and I never understood the answer. They've been around a while. There have been legends and of course people like Ahn-Zhu herself fuel those tales of immortality and youth. That's crap, as you say. They age. Just differently. Why, beats the crap out of me. I just benefited from their kindness, not criticized it."

"There are other things I cannot and will not discuss even to save my life. I gave my word and I never break it. So, there it is. Do as you will. I never should have crossed over. I was selfish and didn't want to lose the best thing in my life. I should just have accepted my fate, my destiny, and gone to the grave. But I'd made someone a promise, you see, and I could not break it. Not to her."

"Doesn't matter now. Shoot me or give me the needle. I'm tired. And I'm tired of being mistrusted, pitied, examined, judged, ridiculed, doubted, played and used. Do it or I'll damned well do it myself."

"I want the room cleared except for this man, Dr. Bloom and Major Casey. The rest of you have no interest in the outcome, obviously, except perhaps, morbid ,curiosity and you are dismissed with the warning that this is code word sensitive. And someone bring this man a glass of water, please."

The General's eyes bored into Sarah Walker's. She'd been watching Walker during Chuck's monologue and was very disturbed by the absence of any feelings in the young woman. She'd been surprised by Casey's passionate defense but disappointed in Walker's total lack of support or even interest. What was going on here?

"Ms. Walker, do you wish to remain?"

"If I can, yes. If he will allow it, yes I will."

"Sir, do you object to her staying?"

"It's her time, General. She can do as she pleases. She usually does."

"Now, Chuck, tell us what you couldn't in front of the others. I know you. There is more to the story, probably the most entertaining part. And someone take those cuffs off him. The last time he wore them someone killed him. That's not going to happen again."

"Dr. Bloom, the skull fracture you found was the result of being thrown 30 or 40 feet down the glacier as a last effort by the last _yeti_, my friend, the stomper. Ice and I did not meet well and I suffered damage to my brain stem. Please understand, doctor, I'm telling you what I was told. I can't remember squat from the time the _yeti_ tried to take my head off until 6 months or so before my team appeared."

"They do have technology but I have no idea how it works. Ahn-Zhu put me in a 'jar' of some kind filled with liquid and told me I'd be fine, not dream, and when I awoke I would be healed. Apparently that process took 6 of our years. And before you blow a gasket, I know this in retrospect."

"My first real memory after the fight on the glacier was pain and an inability to move or speak. Nothing made sense. I lived in a world of complete darkness and it seemed that every time I slept I was back in that damned meat locker with someone throwing something on my back that burned like hellfire. Every time I slept. I could hear but no one spoke English. I couldn't see and it felt like my face, hands and feet belonged to someone else. There was no feeling in them. None at all. It was like touching wax."

"Gradually I began to see shadows out of my right eye and someone, I don't know who, was trying to teach me how to walk but I don't remember much of that at all. What I do remember is always, and I mean always being cold. To the bone."

"I don't know how long this went on when Ahn-Zhu returned and took over my therapy, repair, recovery, whatever you want to call it. She taught me to talk again, and that was a trip. I could think fine, but whatever connected the thought to the tongue, well, it was broken. She also taught me some techniques for pain control but I could never use them on me. They just didn't work. She gave me some song and dance about altruism and I just bitched her out for teaching me shit that I couldn't use to kill the pain. I guess that's when the 'Undisciplined Scholar' lost his temper and decided to go home. I missed someone. And I was afraid she'd moved on without me. I didn't blame her, but it pissed me off anyway."

"I ended up halfway up the glacier and lost, blind and really pissed off, mostly at me. What made sense in a warm bed was idiocy on the glacier. And I wasn't alone."

Sarah gasped and Casey just stared at him. The General never blinked and the good doctor was taking notes like mad for the cross-examination.

"The _yetis_ and humans have been at war since before people kept track of such things. Humanity was winning and the _yeti_ had retreated to caves and high places to try and eke out a meager existence."

"The one that found me had just put her child in a burial cairn. I don't know whether it was the mother instinct or what but she carried me to the wood line and left me beside a woodcutter's tent."

"The rest you know. Ahn-Zhu was exasperated and finally asked me who I was so desperate to return to. She thought I was going to stay with her. Nope. No way. So I told her. And gave her three questions to ask for validation of my existence and that's the rest of the story. Took you guys another 6 months to show up. I guess I wasn't 1 on your To Do List."

"Gotta be honest, though, the old brain has been scrambled a few times and I might have the order or sequence wrong. Dying, Dr. Bloom, does tend to mess with the thought processes."

"Oh, one last thing, if this all has a favorable outcome, I will not stay in the God Damned Truck again."

Chuck filled and drank another glass of water and then turned to Dr. Bloom.

"Your witness, counselor." Snarky to the end.

"No questions, General."

"And his account? How does it compare with the other one?"

"A few differences, different memories of different stages, of course they hadn't been tortured the way Agent Bartowski had been, but essentially identical enough to have been written or told by the same person."

"But that was 1919, doctor. How could the same woman be in both accounts?"

"Don't know. Ask Chuck. It was _his_ girlfriend." Dr. Bloom couldn't resist the dig. She'd watched Sarah Walker also and was tempted to smack her for abandoning one who'd given so much for her. When she'd reported Chuck's injury to the General, it hadn't been pretty. "I want her gone. Keep her away from him."

She'd reconsidered since Casey told her she was overreacting. But she did plan on separating them for a cooling off period. She knew Chuck would not understand but she hoped Walker would use the time to consider andappropriate' action plan.

"Well, Chuck? Was your Ahn-Zhu the woman from 1919?"

"General, with all due respect, how the hell would I know? She graduated from UCLA Medicine in 1943 according to Ellie. Back tracking from say 33 that would make her born in 1910. How old was the woman you're talking about, Lila?"

She smiled broadly at the use of her first name. "A small oriental woman of Tibetan or Nepalese ancestry helped me regain my sight using ointments and poultices and cautioned me to seek proper medical care when I returned home. She was very womanly with long black hair and the most delicate fingers I've ever had run through my hair. When first she met me, she called me her Scholar but later just John because she'd consulted her auguries and found he hadn't yet been born. She told me she was 45 but didn't look more than 19 or 20."

"Chuck, that's an account of a early 20th century explorer and climber of his discovery and loss of a city in the Himalayas. A walled city called…"

"Shangri-La" whispered Chuck. Lila beamed her approval and something else no one but Sarah saw. General Beckman noted the exchange and smiled. Step one accomplished.

"I think that wraps this up. It's late and I have meetings to attend. Dr. Bloom, thank you for your usual thorough job. Major Casey, have you finished interviewing the applicants for the replacement position on the Team yet?"

"Yes, General. Narrowed it to three and all Chuck has to do is pick one. All are from NSA and thoroughly, and I mean thoroughly, vetted and investigated. Chuck, feel up to spending time with three candidates? If not today, tomorrow then."

"Casey, I'd like to be done with all this so let's just keep on going. I would, however, appreciate a few minutes at the commissary. Haven't eaten since last evening and that wasn't all that much."

"Sure, we'll stop off on the way to our offices."

Sarah left the conference room alone and feeling desolate. She'd been enraged that the doctor had proven that the man she'd given herself to so freely was not her Chuck but an imposter. She wanted to kill him. But then the evidence swung back and he was her Chuck and it had all been a ruse to validate information on the walled city. He was still her Chuck. The question now was whether she was still the woman he wanted to be with?

The commissary was fairly crowded but people seemed to scurry out of his way as he approached the line. "Casey, is it my imagination or do these people seem, I don't know, afraid of me or what? I use a deodorant."

Casey laughed. "I don't know, Chuck. I told you to get more sun. You look like you should be on life-support." He was kidding but Chuck didn't take it that way.

"Casey, I look sick or I look, um, dead? Are you just trying to tell me I look dead? Do I? Oh, shit. Why didn't someone tell me? Do I stink like a corpse, too? Jesus, no wonder Walker wants out. Too many dead guys in her bed. Shit. Casey, I need to talk to Beckman. I want the hole in the ground. I won't be the cause of all this, this fear."

Dr. Bloom walked in and got in line behind them. She caught just the last part of his comments to Casey.

"Agent Bartowski, it's not fear, it's awe. You've developed quite the underground following. When you were reported killed in the line of duty, I'm surprised there weren't memorial services held here. And then the rumor started that you'd turned up in the Himalayas living as a monk in a Tibetan monastery, well, the 'little people' were amazed and excited. Especially when the rumor mill ginned out the report that you were coming here. Most people avoid the commissary on Wednesdays. 'Mystery Meat' is not a favorite item."

Chuck sighed. "Casey, unless you're starved, let's get the interviews out of the way. I've lost my appetite."

"No, you have to eat. You are 30 pounds under your lowest weight and nearly 40 pounds off the ideal. You need the food for energy, Chuck. You need to rebuild your reserves and general health."

She stepped closer and almost whispered "you need a good home-cooked meal, several of them. Here's my card with my home cell. Give me a call if you get 'hungry'. I'm a really good cook, Chuck."

She turned and left. Step two accomplished.

"You know, you might not live to see 41 if Walker sees you and the doc together. She's hot but Walker's armed and dangerous." Step 3 accomplished. Casey chuckled at the General's deviousness.

"OK, I'll eat then I want to finish up those interviews and get the Team back together. Sarah's someone else's problem, Casey. There's no hope there now. Fucking Bryce is deader than me but still gets the girl. Well, it won't take dying again to show me the error of my ways."

Crap. Last night rears its ugly head and Chuck thinks Walker's still hung up on the dead boyfriend. Lila was a bit too 'come hither, Chuck' and Walker never made a peep in the interrogation room. And Chuck thinks Sarah's gone by default because of the fraternization rule and isn't moving towards marriage because of Bryce and Cabo. What a mess.

**Interview Room**

"Chuck, what do you think of him? Solid, reliable, no baggage, single. The only drawback I can see is the he reminds me of Larkin. I can live with it, but can you?"

"Doesn't much matter, Casey. Not at all. But I'd like to see the other two just to be fair and thorough. Pencil Bryce in as a…shit. I called him Bryce didn't I? Ron, dammit, Ron, pencil him in as a possible and let's move on."

"What about her? Excellent weapons skills, speaks 4 languages, laughs at your dumb jokes and doesn't believe you hung the moon. Must be nice to meet some one who doesn't want to kiss your feet and sit and listen to you tell them about the underside of the rock or some such mumbo jumbo."

"Probable unless the third one is unique. I'm getting tired, John. Let's move it along. I'm getting fuzzy, too. Don't need to display Alzheimer's in front of the fans."

Alerted, Casey pulled his cell and dialed a number, keyed in a code and then hung up.

"OK, let's see who's behind curtain number 3, Casey."

"God damn you, John. Are you out of your mind? My sister is not going to get involved in this back-stabbing, betraying, undercutting, deceitful, duplicitous, murderous and unethical world I'm stuck in. Not only no, HELL no. Let's go with door 2. I always wanted to learn to speak Urdu and she can teach me."

"Chuck, you don't have a choice. She's my new partner. We're still interviewing for yours. Handler that is. Walker's gone so she needs to be replaced."

Chuck looked at him and smiled. "Agent Walker will not appreciate you spending time with her girlfriend, Major. Not appreciate it at all. You need to choose another."

Casey looked at Chuck wondering if this was some kind of trick, or an act of some kind. He hadn't been briefed on Chuck's micro-Alzheimer moments. He flipped out and hit the panic button and dialed the PA and shouted "Medical Emergency Conference 2" and then asked Chuck to sit back down and relax.

Dr. Bloom ran into the room followed by 2 nurses and a pair of orderlies with a gurney.

"Hello, I'm Chuck. Have we met? I remember…I think… no, I can't remember. Major Casey, I'm tired. Call Ahn-Zhu please. Thank you for coming all this way but I am going to stay. And I'm too tired to go anyway."

Lila whispered 'Stroke?' to Casey and he just shrugged his shoulders. "Call his sister, Major, she might know."

Ten minutes later Ellie came in and saw her brother asleep on the gurney. "What's the emergency? Is it Chuck?"

"We were arguing about you on the team and he looked at me funny and said Agent Walker wouldn't like me spending so much time around her girlfriend. It's like he's had a stroke or something."

"Or something. He's fine, but he must be exhausted and stressed. Ahn-Zhu said it happens when his brain is trying to catch up his memory. We thought it was early onset of Alzheimer's in Tibet until she explained it. Parts of Chuck's memories are lost in another time and he has to relearn or it's his mind catching up with his body. Both are possible. It's embarrassing to him, nothing more. In a year or two it should abate totally."

"Good. It's hard enough accepting him as Chuck without adding his 'little kid' mentality to the mix."

"So what did he say about me on the team?" She was looking forward to sharing her life with John and Chuck, her two favorite men.

"Basically, no."

"Bet he said more."

"Yes, he did."

"Care to share?"

"Later, maybe."

"OK"

"Casey, I want to keep him overnight and hook up the machines and make sure it's not something else. He's been through so much and we've never had the opportunity to do an EEG to ensure there's no traumatic epilepsy or something else that may have been caused by the trauma. Casey, his brain stem was injured and he lived. Incredible. He's incredible. And not bad looking either. For an older guy."

They both laughed but Ellie was not amused.

"He's not a science experiment, Lila. He's a dynamic human being with incredible caring skills that can also turn you into a pile of slag with two words and a twitch. You should have seen him whacking those _yetis _with his ice axe. Like some Viking with a case of the ass. So don't screw with him, Lila. Walker won't like it, Casey won't like it and I definitely won't like it. And don't play him either. He's had more than enough of that shit from us women."

"He's a man, Ellie. I know that. And he's hurt and I'm a healer. His back spasms and he just rides it out. Never a peep. Don't any of you care enough to try and help him?"

"Didn't know until yesterday. He told Beckman but not me, his sister the doctor."

"I'd like to try some massage techniques my sister taught me. Maybe give him a few day's relief if that's OK with you two."

"Do it. You should see him sometimes. All he can do is grunt the pain is so bad."

She told her orderlies where to take him and what equipment to prepare and followed them down the hall to Medical.

"So he rejected me, John, his own sister?"

"For all the right reasons, honey. Love, safety, fear and anger. But you'll wear him down. Now if only Walker will get her head out of her ass…"

Sarah sat in her apartment in DC wondering where her whatever he was, was. She called Casey.

"Casey, secure."

"Walker, secure. Where's Chuck, John?"

"Undergoing some tests. He had a mini-Alzheimer's and they want to run some brain crap and let him sleep under monitored conditions. Lila Bloom is the attending so he's in good hands. Scared the crap out of me. We were reviewing candidates, well, you know how it goes."

"Who's going to be with him if he dreams? You know he almost never goes a night without a screamer after one of these. Are they prepped for that?"

"Don't know. I'm not medical. Call Bloom and let her know what to expect and what to do. I've never been through one. I think only you and Ahn-Zhu, the two people he…trusted. Look, I'm driving down to DC you want to talk about this mess? I don't say much but I'm a good listener. Just wake me when you want my opinion."

"No, thanks. I'm going to bed. I have options to explore tomorrow with Beckman. I really am not in the mood for conversation." She started to cry. "I need him, Casey and I miss him and I was so drunk and stupid. What am I going to do?"

Casey handed the phone to Ellie. "Here, it's for you."

_**NSA Medical Dispensary**_

"Bloom, secure.

"Walker, secure. He needs someone in his room, doctor. He has horrible flashback dreams of his torture. He needs to be held and whispered to that he's safe and that he killed them all, all six of them and that he made it back OK. If you don't he's going to keep on screaming and repeating the dream. It's horrible but necessary. Not every night now, only 3 times in a week in Greece but it's about time for one – especially after this afternoon's event." It was obvious to Lila that she'd been crying. The sniffling and voice tremors were dead giveaways.

"Thank you, Ms. Walker, I'll alert the staff duty nurse before I go home in a few minutes. A dream would be interesting since we're running tapes and EEGs right now. Thank you for calling this to my attention."

"Casey, secure."

"Walker, secure. They're running tests on him, Casey, not to find things to fix but to find things to study. She wants him to dream. Thinks it would be interesting since they're running tapes and EEGs. The damned doctor isn't even staying around; a nurse will make sure he doesn't injure himself. God damn it, the NSA promised, YOU promised, no tests, and no experiments. Is this how you keep your word? He saved your life, my life, and this is his repayment?"

"Walker, it's none of your business anymore. You're been relieved and your new assignment hasn't been decided yet, has it?"

"No, it hasn't."

"Then you're on vacation, free to do what you want, where you want, understood?"

"Thanks, John. I understand."

"Bloom, secure."

"Casey, secure. Go. Now. She's on the way unless she's really dim, Lila.

"Well, she is CIA, or was. And she did dump him. He's mmmm so handsome." She finished dumping one of four syringes into the IV port. Give him a few hours of this and the 'suggestions' made when he first arrived and been 'examined', he'd be well into Phase 4 of the re-conditioning.

"Lila, she'd gut you and leave you in your own mess if she catches you with him. Go home. Now."

"OK. Party pooper."

"Piece of shit pool car. Wait until I get a permanent assignment and get my Porsche out of storage. I could have been there 20 minutes ago." She yelled this 25 minutes after leaving DC for the 30-minute trip to FT Meade.

"Damn the NSA. 'No tests, Chuck. No experiments, Chuck. Just a physical, Chuck.' They don't care anything about him, just their frikkin' precious intersect."

She opened the door to the Medical Unit and showed her ID to the duty nurse.

"I'm sorry but visiting hours are over and he's not permitted visitors anyway." The duty nurse had a death wish.

"I'm his protective detail so I'm not a visitor. Thank you. Have a nice day." Chew on that you Sesame Street character.

She opened the door to his room and drew the plastic curtains over the viewing window. No voyeurs.

She recognized the EEG and the heart monitor and the other gizmos so she knew he was being monitored, not tested or treated. "If anyone is going to 'treat' him it's me."

She kicked off her shoes and crawled up on the bed and put her arms around him and softly whispered nonsense in his ear while running her fingers through his hair. She would kidnap him, drag his ass across the line to Virginia and get married then return to duty as Mrs. Charles Bartowski, wife of the handsome older man. She giggled and Chuck stirred a bit, figured out who it was in bed with him and then sighed and went back to sleep.

She'd been in the commissary when Chuck and Casey walked in. She'd hoped to catch him alone and talk to him, apologize, beg him to come home with her but she'd been surprised by the number of people, mostly women who were milling around. She'd heard someone say, "Here he comes" and figured it was someone's surprise birthday party or something but she heard one of the older women say that she'd seen him coming out of the General's office and he was a lot older than she'd expected.

The normal chatter quieted down when Chuck and Casey entered the room. He'd put on his belt and tie and he looked yummy in his Savile Row suit. She was appalled to see that other women were openly staring at him. Sarah got up and left when she saw Dr. Bloom hand Chuck a business card and whisper something in his ear. He blushed and turned around and followed Casey through the line.

There was an almost collective sigh when Chuck finished eating and left.

This was ridiculous. He wasn't a movie star or some famous author or politician; he was simply Chuck Bartowski, nice guy and yeti slayer and the man who cheated death, her man.

**NSA VIP Quarters**

"Casey, what's the real reason Chuck doesn't want me on the team? Tell me."

"He loves you. He wants you to be normal and he wants you to be safe. You have no training, no abilities with self-defense, weapons, and so on. He wants you …innocent so when he goes home to you it's like Leave It to Beaver. I don't blame him, either."

"So you don't want me on the team, either?"

"I didn't say that. But if it was up to me, you'd never get within 10 miles of me again."

'I love you Ellie but this life and job, they're for dark people, not people like you who can live in the light. It makes a person mean and uncaring and shallow and very cynical."

"So yeah, I'd rather you stayed my sweet Ellie that I know I can count on to be my constant in the changing spy world, and as far removed from all this as possible."

Walker woke up exactly on time and slipped out of his bed and into her shoes and then left. She didn't want him finding her in his bed. He needed to feel strong in his own skin and she would have all the rest of their lives to hold him while he slept.

Chuck crawled out of the hospital bed still tired but committed to finishing what he'd started the previous day before he apparently fell into the Alzheimer's loop. He needed to finish his discussion with Casey. Ellie couldn't be on his team for all the same reasons Sarah Walker couldn't be on his protective detail. Emotions clouded reason and a clouded reasoning made for poor decisions. Poor decisions made for dead agents and assets. Dead agents and assets made for failed missions. Ergo, Ellie and Sarah would cause missions to fail.

He showered and dressed, feeling somewhat better but mentally still on the ropes from his personally devastating decision. She would not understand. And she would lash out at him and leave. Ellie would not understand and she would lash out at him and leave.

They all left him in the end. This time he would sever the link and it would be his decision and burden. He'd have to consider replacing Casey, too, since he'd end up resenting Chuck for the loss of his and that would lead to anger and tension on the team that he didn't need. That would lead to failed missions.

He hadn't shaved and the stubble snagged at his shirt collar and irritated him. So unprofessional. And he needed to appear ultra-professional with the General.

In the back of his mind he began building his wall, his personal Great Wall, the Bartowski equivalent of Hadrian's Wall, only instead of keeping out the barbarian hordes it would keep out the soft and gentle aspects of a world he could no longer be part of. He would use the leftover mortar to patch up the cracks in his own heart.

He button-holed the General's Chief of Staff in the commissary at the coffee machine and asked him to pencil in a few minutes with the General sometime that morning. It was important but would not require much time.

Normally the colonel would have resented being approached by an Agent for 'dispensation' but this one was different. He liked the affable young man. He'd known Bartowski 'before' and had tolerated his antics with amusement but he liked this Bartowski 'after' because he'd matured and somehow found himself and his purpose. He'd watched the video of the packing plant like so many others and found it both horrifying and inspiring, so much so that he'd recommended that it be used in the initial agency screening process – after appropriate editing.

"Fine, Bartowski. Fifteen minutes be enough?" He knew the General would give him the day if it were needed. Bartowski had _purpose_. And it was the General's same purpose.

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir, and I'm sorry to approach you like this but I figured it would give you time to review the schedule before your day's plan was shattered by the first phone call."

"Bartowski, you have grown up. I'm glad you're back, but don't let this job grind you down, son. You look like death warmed over. I'll call with the appointment time."

"Colonel, you have no idea how accurate you are. I'll await your call, sir, and thank you again for your time."

**Beckman's Office**

"Chuck, this is a precipitous decision, even from you. I cannot fault the logic of your argument, however. Fine. It shall be as you wish. But Chuck, be careful what you wish for, you may get it." She was thinking back to her decision to send a younger Bartowski what he wanted, The Nightmare.

"General, ma'am, I have two requests, favors, boons, whatever. I want Walker assigned to totally safe duties and my sister to be disqualified from serving. Invent logical reasons but they cannot be part of this. And, reassign John Casey. His resentment towards me will be overwhelming and detrimental to mission success."

My God, what has happened? Where was the likable but obnoxious brat who brought such panache to life? Who the hell was this man sitting here? For all intents and purposes he was eliminating everyone and everything in his life that gave him life. And it was heartbreaking but necessary; these were dire times. Bloom had been correct in her assessment of what made him tick. Isolation form his emotional support structure would make conditioning fast and easy.

"I'll have Walker returned to Los Angeles to her previous assignment, and Casey will go with her and be in charge of… something appropriate to his skills and so he and Dr. Bartowski will be in the same city at least. Nature will take its course. But Chuck…"

"Thank you, General. I've taken up 13 minutes of your busy day. I'll get out of your hair. And thank you for arranging the intersect update. Old data leads to faulty decisions and that leads to failed mission objectives. Have a good day."

**Sarah Walker's CIA Apartment**

"Walker, secure."

"Casey, secure. You get new orders, Sarah?"

"Yes, you bastard. How could you do this to Chuck and me? I see your hand in it. What did you do, tell Beckman all about the drunken comment?"

"I got orders, too. I'm off the team and assigned to Los Angeles as a "Regional Coordinator of Operations". Ellie got bounced from the program for 'psychological reasons' and Chuck's gone. No one will tell me where, either. Sarah, you're my new assistant. I think Chuck's taken care of us, got us out of harm's way and made some kind of deal with Beckman to do it. I know he's not in detention. I think he's…setting up a death squad and going full bore against Fulcrum and anyone else who threatens the greater good. Seven agents have already been arrested here at Headquarters just since this morning. Someone's shaking the trees."

"Casey, what are we going to do? I need him in my life, John. There's a big hole where he used to be. It's just like after the packing plant. It's like he's dead, John, and this time there's no happy ending, no second chance, no Ahn-Zhu to call us to come and get him."

"Look, Ellie and I are moving in together in her old apartment. It's just sitting there and she's been paying rent on it. Nothing's changed. Come on out to LA with us and we'll support each other as best we can. Ellie will need you and you'll need us."

"I'll think about it, John. Right now I'm just too shocked to even put together many more sentences. I'll talk to you and Ellie later this evening. I'm going to ask for an appointment with Beckman. She owes us for bringing her weapon back to her and I'm calling in her marker."

**NSA HeadquartersOffice of the Chief of Staff 8am**

"I'm sorry, Ms. Walker, but the General's schedule is full for the next two days. She's very busy with some new operations and has no time, not even for her physical therapy. I'm sorry. I'll pass along your request but I just don't know when she'll have time."

**Conference Area - Beckman's Office**

The Director of Personnel was sitting at the conference table with the rest of the senior staff.

"General, this Bartowski is decimating our agency staff. There have been seven arrests as of this morning. Seven! He's got everyone looking over their shoulder to see if they're going to be next. This has got to stop."

"Those arrested have all confessed without, I might add, the least coercion. The evidence against them proved conclusive before the arrests. I reviewed and approved the actions. I am also demanding that you further harden your review and vetting process. Traitors in the ranks cannot be tolerated. Two of those arrested had just been given clean sheets by your department. You missed critical areas of review. Intolerable. Next item."

"Mr. Bartowski has requested replacement of his entire team, General, with specific assignments to those being replaced. I find this most unusual and must…"

"MUST? Make those assignments happen, now. Create the jobs, if necessary. Next item?"

"His requirements for his replacements are…unusual. Weapons training, languages, unmarried, no dependents, no attachments and his requirements for the female member of the team are…scandalous. I'll never meet his qualifications, never."

"Contact Regis Petrella at DEA. Request Carina Hansen. She'll fill the bill. Next item…?"

**VIP QuartersThree days later**

Chuck Bartowski looked at himself in the mirror. He was searching for something that he knew he'd recognize when he saw it, like an old friend you haven't seen in years spotted in a crowd. No luck. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe tomorrow he'd find the 29-year-old Nerd and ask him what the hell happened. Who was this old man staring back at him? And why was he crying?

**NSA Strike Team FacilitiesFT Meade, MD15 days later**

Charles Bartowski sat at the head of the briefing room table and looked at his new team. Still one slot open but the other four were filled. Still waiting for the sweet spot on the blade. Damned personnel weenies.

"I'm Chuck Bartowski. Call me Chuck. You are here because you've agreed to undertake a task on behalf of your country. When it's done, those of us who are still here will be able to look anyone anywhere in the eye and know that we were the best – ever."

"None of us have outside attachments. If you form one, tell me. I'll have you reassigned without dishonor. We are all we need and can have. We're still short one team member. The sweet spot."

"Our mission is simple. Kill everything Fulcrum that lives. Destroy everything Fulcrum that stands. We get what we need when we need it. We are the tip of the spear."

"No one dies without my permission. I've been dead. Trust me, you won't like it. You have the rest of the week to tie up the lose ends of your life. That means sell your car, house, apartment, and furniture, anything that won't fit into a pair of suitcases. I'll see you all back here Monday morning. Hopefully we'll have a full complement. If you're having second thoughts, and you're crazy if you're not, see me after the meeting for a private, non-recorded, never-happened meeting."

**NSA Strike Team FacilitiesFT Meade, MDOne week later**

"Hi, I'm looking for Agent Bart…Chuck? Wh-wh-what the hell happened to you? You're… where's Walker? I'm going to kick her butt for not warning me or something. So, uh, Chuck? Say something?"

"Hello, Carina. Walker's in L.A. I think. Casey's there, too. Look, you know the rules. Get settled in and I'll introduce you to the rest of the team. But first I have to give you what they call 'The Speech' so pull up a chair."

_Hansen waited two months before calling Sarah Walker. She wanted to be on firm ground before she called_.

"Walker, secure."

"Hansen, secure. Nightmare, what the hell happened to Chuck? And I thought you and he… Oh, hell. He's like you were, only colder and more shut off. Talk to me, Sar'."

"There's nothing to say. We – he – I don't understand what happened. One day we're talking about getting married and then…I did something incredibly stupid when Ellie and I were drunk."

She told her best friend, her only friend now, the entire story, from walking into the BuyMore to leaving DC for the last time.

"Sarah, he's missing you. I mean, he's got this big hole where his heart used to be. When he smiles, if he smiles, it's such a sad thing. He's built this wall around himself and no one can get in or over or under it."

"I know, Carina, but it's my fault and I can't change history. Is – is- is he seeing anyone? There's this doctor at NSA Headquarters, Lila Bloom, is he…" She started to cry. It was all she'd seemed to do in the months since she'd been reassigned.

"No. He's like a monk. If he's not in the gym he'a in Medical for the 'immunity system restoration' or he's in his office reading reports and if he's not any of those places he's either in with the HQ staff or asleep or preparing for a mission. One of the guys went to deliver a message from the General and he came out white as a sheet. He said 'the chief is crying and the tears have frozen on his cheeks."

Carina promised to stay in touch, keeping her in the loop as much as she could, within the strict rules he'd imposed.

"He won't talk to me except on business. I'm just another one of his appendages. We've run eleven successful missions since I got here. He's given the team a week off. I asked him where he was going for his break and he said 'I have no place to go and here is as good as any other place. I can't go home, not any more. Have a good time, Carina, but remember the rules'."

"What rules, Carina?"

"It's from 'The Speech' he gives the newbies, and we've lost 3 of the original team and 7 of the replacements so far."

"Tell me, damn you, don't make me pull teeth to get an answer. You're worse than Casey."

I've memorized 'The Speech'. Here goes, but I can't get it as right as he does. He makes you believe it."

"_You are here because you've agreed to undertake a task on behalf of your country. When it's done, those of us who are still here will be able to look anyone anywhere in the eye and know that we were the best – ever."_

"_None of us have outside attachments. If you form one, tell me. I'll have you reassigned without dishonor. We are all we need and can have. Our mission is simple. Kill everything Fulcrum that lives. Destroy everything Fulcrum that stands. We get what we need when we need it. We are the tip of the spear. No one dies without my permission. I've been dead. Trust me, you won't like it."_

"Scary, huh Sar'? Look, I have to go. I'll keep you in the loop. Check the dailies for after-action reports. Look for references to Team Yeti. Stupid name, but he picked it."

"Casey, secure."

"Walker, secure. Good morning, Casey. I need a favor. Can you get me clearance to see the after-action reports on a strike team?"

"Sure. Name?"

"Team Yeti."

"Sorry, Sarah, even I can't see them. So far up the chain the air is thin."

"Ok. Thanks anyway."

"Hey, you heard anything I can tell Ellie? You seem to have a 'source' still."

She told him what Carina had told her. Summarizing. She didn't know the speech word for word, just the highlights. 'I've been dead. Trust me you won't like it."

"Sounds like, I don't know, a 'final option' kind of set up. I'll see about some back channels on the after-actions but don't hold your breath. See ya tonight. Lasagna night. And you cooked it? Incredible."

**Two weeks laterNSA Strike Teams BilletTeam Yeti**

"Chief, the General's aide said to tell you 'meet her in the commissary' when you're done here."

"Thanks, Toc. How's the leg coming along?"

"Not bad. Thigh muscle cramps sometimes but I rub it like you said. Goes away, almost."

"Yeah, almost is good enough sometimes, though. You know I can't take you back, Toc. Not after this." He pointed to the younger man's thigh.

"I passed Meds, Chief, Doc Bloom said I could requal and then just get on the list again."

"Nope. I like you. You're the last of the first. Don't want you on my list. Sorry. It's only a matter of time and I won't have you on my conscience. Take off and don't take it so hard. I'm doing you a favor."

He looked off into the distance running down his 'other' list. Too many names. Too many faces.

"Uh, Chief, the general said 'today'."

"Yeah. I'm moving. Nag, nag, nag." He finished the coffee Toc had brought in one long gulp.

**General Beckman's Office**

"You wanted to see me, General? I haven't pissed you off in a while so what's wrong?"

"I'm concerned. Your team is as sharp as they come but there's a weak link that has to be dealt with. Are you prepared to do what's necessary? Follow the order to the letter with no Bartowski 'interpretations'?"

"Depends, General."

"No, it doesn't 'depend'. It's an order that I expect followed, to the letter. Understand? If I don't have complete compliance, I'm taking you out of command and disbanding your team. That's how serious it is."

"You have my attention, General."

"You're on 45-day medical leave, Chief, effective 30 minutes ago. Un-ass my area and go on leave. I'll see you in 46 days, Chuck. Be gone."

He sat down at her table. "Diane, I have no place to go, you know that. What the hell am I going to do with myself for 45 days? And a 'medical' leave? That's bullshit and you know it. I'm healthier now than ever."

"Really? Hold out your hand, palm down." He did and even he could see the trembling.

"Nerves. You turn me on. I looove women in uniform." They'd become friends in the past months. Incredible, but true. They'd even 'dated' for dinner or some other even when she needed an escort. She cleaned up pretty nicely, too.

"You're a nervous wreck. You _almost_ failed your medical quals and that's the only reason you're getting this chance. Lila says your blood pressure was sky-high before you pulled your little trick. You're on leave, Chuck. Go someplace sunny. Find a girl, have some fun, act your damned age for a change."

"We're not done. We've still got a lot to do and I want it done right and soon. Things are looking up and I want to finish this business and…"

"And what, Chief? Go back to work at the BuyMore? Become a gigolo? Die?"

He sighed. He just wanted it all to be done with. He hadn't looked further than the final mission. There wasn't anything else in his future to look past that.

"General, please. I don't need this. I don't want this. I need to work, to run my team. It's all I've got left, this purpose. Please…" She could see unshed tears welling up.

Beckman knew that it was worse than she'd been told or could have imagined. When Hansen had come to her and asked for him to be relieved for medical reasons, she'd almost thrown her out of the program. It was only her tearful recitation of the facts of their last mission that changed her mind.

_**Begin Flashback**_

_**Two weeks earlierFulcrum Hive SiteRehobeth Beach, DE**_

"_Toc to Chief. Munitions in place. Time to split. This puppy's going to go up like Mount St. Helen's." Everyone could hear the joy in Toc's voice. The huge Samoan loved to blow things up. Or down. Or sideways. He loved his bang-bangs. And he was an artist. _

"_This is Chuck. Pull out to rally point. Hansen, you got the back door until relieved by Toc. Toc, slam the door and rally."_

"_Toc? Toc? Damn it, Toc? Hansen, back door. Count them out and then slam it. I'm going to find our little Samoan demo-freak. All Yetis rally point now."_

_The bunker complex reminded Chuck of Stockton. . He could hear her voice from one of the containers crying for him to help her. He shook his head to clear it. Mind on the mission. _

_He walked around a corner and saw two fulcrum 'soldiers' standing over Toc's still form. He opened up from 30 feet and cut them down. Running down the corridor he missed the 'soldier' standing inside an office in the shadows. _

_Chuck knelt down beside Toc and quickly checked the two enemy operatives to ensure they were dead. There was a large pool of blood under Toc's right leg. Artery nick, and a huge knot on his head where he'd been struck by something. He ripped off one of the dead guy's belts and made a tourniquet high on Toc's leg. He grabbed his man's ruck straps and started dragging him down the hall the way he'd come when the enemy agent in the office opened up with an automatic weapon. _

_The rounds 'walked' across Chuck who had thrown himself on the Samoan. One round grazed his upper arm and another took a chunk out of his thigh. The ballistic armor absorbed the rest. He spun around and stitched a burst across the chest and face of the blonde woman who'd fired on him. _

_He dragged Toc to the 'back door rally' point and then started to sprint back into the building. Carina and another striker grabbed him but he just kept screaming that 'Sarah was down, Sarah was down' and he needed to pull her out of the container. _

_Carina had done the head count and all were accounted for. She nodded at the other soldiers to carry Toc and she'd handle the Chief. _

"_Let me go, Carina. Sarah's in there. I shot her by mistake. She's alive. I have to get her out." He turned and knocked her down and then rushed back into the building and pulled out a dead woman._

_Carina had the R/T call for extraction and she went to check on her team leader. He was sitting down with the dead woman in his arms sobbing that he was sorry he'd killed Bryce and ruined her marriage and sorry that he'd killed her and ruined his. Carina shot him up with Demerol and looked at the body he'd been rocking. Blonde hair, probably blue eyes, 9mm holes in her chest, throat and face. She did look something like Walker, but not enough to confuse an experienced operator like Chief._

_She dragged Bartowski as far as she could from the building housing the bunker when it went up and knocked her on her ass. The rest of the team carried them to the extraction chopper and the on-board medic started working on her._

"_I'm not hit. It's the Chief. Arm and leg. I hit him up with Demerol that's why he's unresponsive. He pulled Toc out then went back for a wounded prisoner." She had to explain it somehow. Having their leader hare out like that would kill morale._

_**End Flashback**_

"Mr. Bartowski, you have your orders. Comply or you're relieved."

Chuck stood up, cocked his head at her and then said in a soft voice, "Remember to do your massage therapy, Diane, or your leg will wither up like your heart has." He turned and left.

Few people could get to Diane Beckman but Bartowski was one of those few. "You should practice what you preach, Chief." She knew he'd heard her when his shoulders shrugged.

"Walker, secure."

"Beckman, secure. The Chief, I mean, Chuck, has been relieved and put on 45-day medical leave. His team assistant, Hansen, requested it. I think you should call her, Sarah."

Sarah stared at her phone. Beckman had just called her, said 3 sentences and then hung up.

"Hansen, secure."

"Walker, secure. Carina, what the hell is going on out there? Beckman just called me about Chuck being relieved of team command. Was that your doing? What, he turn you down?"

"Sar', he lost it on a mission. He pulled out Toc and went running back into a bunker that we'd wired for demo with a short fuse. He was going back in for _you_."

"He'd been hit twice and apparently thought you were in a container and dying. He came back out carrying a blonde woman and then he just lost it crying that he was sorry he'd killed Bryce and ruined your marriage and sorry that he'd killed you and ruined his."

"I went to Beckman and she sent him to Medical Quals and he passed. She interviewed everyone on the team but they all had a hole in their memory. I don't think she believed me, Sarah, so she pulled the voice recordings for the mission. That did it for her. The Chief is on medical leave or he's out."

"Where's he going, do you know?"

"A little bird told me he had a confrontation with the General in the commissary when she told him he was on leave. She told him find someplace sunny, a willing girl and start acting his age instead of hers. He told her he had no place to go and she told him he was relieved and she'd see him in 46 days."

"Sarah, he told her to be sure and do her leg massages or her leg would wither and die like her heart did. All she did was yell at him to practice what he preached."

"Oh, Chuck. You just keep on twisting the knife. I surprised she didn't have him detained for a comment like that."

"They're friends, Sarah. They even have dinner together occasionally. And Beckman looks really good in a 'little black dress' and makeup. Really good, Sarah. And Chuck looks…edible."

Sarah practically hissed into the phone. "She's old enough to be his mother, for Christ's sake. And if you want to live, keep your hands off him. He's mine, damn it."

"Then do something about it. He's dying here. Maybe not physically, not yet, but mentally. He almost got us killed because he thought it was you he killed. Is he going to hesitate the next time a Walker look-alike tries to gun him down? He's the best team leader and one of the finest men I've ever met and he's ruined because he thinks he's ruined your life. Have you tried to call him? I'm betting, lemme see...NO... you haven't."

"He sent us all away. He got us 'promoted' out of harm's way and there's nothing anyone here can do about it. We can't even see his damned after action reports the classification is so high. I don't have any options. None."

"You're pathetic. I'll see you at the funeral, Nightmare. Maybe you'll get a free flag out of it."

**Casa Bartowski**

"Casey, Ellie, I heard from one of Chuck's team mates. He's on 45-day medical leave. He was told take the leave or he was fired, basically. He hared out on a mission and almost got himself and the assistant team leader greased. He told the general he had no place to go and she told him go or be gone."

"Well, good. He doesn't need any more of that crap. He'll just keep pushing until something gives, and I'm afraid it will be him. He doesn't know when to quit, does he? Always has to be the hero, the center of attention. Still the kid, saying 'Look at me'."

Casey beat Sarah to the punch.

"Eleanor Bartowski, that's the dumbest thing I've ever heard come out of your mouth. He's always reluctant to take credit. He's the ultimate reluctant warrior. Ahn-Zhu was right in her assessment. He'll sacrifice his own happiness for another's in a heartbeat. He did it for us. Especially for you, Ellie."

"Yeah, John, and he's so damned concerned about us he's never called or sent an email. He wanted us out of the way, if you ask me. He wouldn't even consider me on his precious team."

"Ellie, Chuck's precious team, as you so sarcastically put, it has lost all it's original members as well as a bunch of replacements. They don't do the easy stuff, they go for the hives, the leaders. And Carina says it's only a matter of time until Chuck doesn't, I mean, until he…" She threw down her fork and ran to her bedroom in near hysterics.

"Is it really that bad, John?"

"Worse. Imagine going up against the yeti on the glacier like we did, every day, day after day. Yeah, it's that bad and worse. It's only a matter of time. Medical leave for a leader is like 'we don't want you around when you die or kill yourself.'

**NSA Medical Dispensary**

"Dr. Bloom."

"Hi, Lila, it's Chuck Bartowski. If you have a few minutes, I'm going on mandatory leave and I need something to help me sleep. Bad dreams. Can you help me out?"

"Sure, come on over when you get the time. I'll need to ask some questions to make sure we get the right prescription and strength. So, where are you off to? Someplace exotic and exciting?"

"I have no idea. If I stay here, physically, I'm out and my team is gone so I suppose I'll rent a car or hell, I have no idea. I've never been on 'vacation' in my life. No time or no money or… anyhow I'll see you in a bit. Thanks."

"So, Chuck, I have to know about the dreams. Repetitious or varied? Same people or same situations? Missions or personal?"

"Repetitious. Mostly about the back thing. Sometimes the yeti but recently, I killed a woman on a mission who had wounded Toc and for an instant I thought it was… someone I knew. That's becoming the main attraction."

"Ok, I've got a light sleep aid, won't make you a zombie and it will enable you to awaken your self during a dream if it gets bad. So, um, any thoughts about a destination? You have to have a destination to sign out."

"No. No place around here I'd like to go. I don't have a 'home' any more so I guess I'll just check into a motel or hotel and wait for the calendar to run down."

"Well, you've got my card and my home cell. Use it, Chuck. I make a mean lasagna and I'm sure we can find something to fill 45 days. No pressure. Just know that I'm here if you need a friend or more."

"I'll definitely keep it in mind, Lila. Thanks for the script. Off to rent a car and visit the pharmacy. Oh, joy."

"Hey, before you run off, you're due for another booster and another course of bycillin for the pneumonia. You're immune system is still not where I'd like it to be. So, over against the gurney and drop 'em, Chief." She retrieved the 'special' booster series from a secure cabinet and proceeded to inject him with a pharma-cocktail of her own creation.

"God, I hate needles. Don't you ever have this in pill form? Why don't you…ouch, Jesus, Lila, sharpen those needles, please!"

"Chuck?"

He turned and she kissed him, arms around his neck and standing on her tiptoes and even then it was a stretch. He didn't respond at first and then when he felt himself begin to enjoy it he pulled away.

"Sorry, Lila. You're not her. And I am sorry. But I just, I made a commitment and, I'm sorry." He turned and walked out of the dispensary.

'Damn you, Sarah Walker. Such a waste.'

"Hansen, secure."

"Casey, secure. Carina, I need to get in touch with Chuck Bartowski. He's got a new cell and we never got his new number. 'We' being his sister, mostly. Are you able to provide it or is it against one of his rules?

"Nope. It's…" She gave him the number from memory.

"Thanks. She needs to talk to her little brother. It's been a long time and it's his 30th birthday today." That was a lie but in a good cause.

"Cool. Wait. Thirty? As in three-zero? You're kidding, right?"

"Nope. He's just got premature gray hair is all.

"Thanks, Carina. If you see him, tell him I said hello. Thanks again."

Chuck was waiting for a bus to take him downtown to rent a car when Lila Bloom drove by. "Need a lift? I'm going downtown and can drop you at the rental place."

"That would be great if that's where you're going. Not that I'm suspicious or anything…" He laughed and she gave him her famous smile.

"Promise. I have to drop all this junk off at the dry cleaners and then run a few errands. Hop in."

"Chuck, about what I said, I meant it. Call me, please? I can be a good listener if you need it."

"I'll keep that in mind, Lila. I might need someone to vent to about day, oh say, four?"

She laughed and then concentrated on her driving.

His cell rang and he saw the ID. "Shit. What's he want? Bartowski, secure."

"Casey, secure. I have two women living with me. One is in an hysterical funk because of something she'd been told and the other one is really pissed that her 'baby brother' hasn't bothered to call in almost 60 days. Which one you want to talk to first, numb nuts?"

"_**Neither."**_ He hung up. Lila glanced over and saw a Bartowski look she didn't recognize or want to see aimed her way. "Trouble, Chuck? Want me to turn around?"

"No, personal."

It rang again. He looked at the caller ID. "Bartowski, secure. Casey, what do you want now?"

"Listen, dickhead, Sarah's near a melt-down and Ellie's bitching about your recent 'episode' and I'm in the damned middle. What's your fucking problem, Chuck? She made a mistake. She was drunk. And you're such white knight, right. Never done anything wrong, never hurt someone without malice aforethought, right?"

"Casey, the drunk's words are the sober man's thoughts. I was past that, emphasis on 'I'. Then the next day after Bloom's little Law & Order episode entitled 'He's not Bartowski'..."

"I saw her eyes, Casey. Raw hatred. Doesn't take dying again for me to get the idea. I'll always love her, but she's made her decision. Now, I have to live with it for a little while. I'm OK with it, really. Classy broad like her, loser like me… never could happen in real life. Take care, Major. Don't get caught on the glacier at night." He hung up.

"Chuck, it was hard not hearing what you said. I feel so damned guilty for that whole charade but Beckman was insistent. I saw what you meant if you were talking about Ms. Walker when you said 'raw hatred' but that was before, not after, Chuck. You're making a big mistake and you're throwing it all away. And, damn it, Chuck Bartowski, you're not a loser, not by a long shot. You just need to call her, Chuck and…" Lila was interrupted by his cell.

His cell rang again. "Casey, we've already had this conversation. I'm not allowed to turn my phone off."

"Chuck, it's Sarah. Please don't hang up on me. I'm so sorry about everything. And I do not love Bryce Larkin nor have I ever if what I feel for you is love. Please, don't throw us away. You're deliberately taking the hardest and most dangerous missions and you're pushing the envelope and the odds hoping that someone ends your heartache. It doesn't have to be that way, sweetheart. I need you, Chuck Bartowski, like I need air and water. Can I please come home now, Chuck?"

"Sarah, I don't have a home. You were my home. It won't work. I saw your face, your eyes. The hate and something else I've never seen before. You're right, I don't think things through. It's probably why all but one of my original team is dead or medically retired."

"Oh, jeeeez." He shuddered as a surge of pain went through him. Seven flags, seven coffins but at least not seven widows, as for the retired, well, they have their pensions and the rest of their lives.

What did he have? Memories, nightmares, nearly constant pain, night terrors, whispers in the tank, '_you should have died like a normal man, abomination, freak, you left her to die, alone in the dark, no air, fire all around, what kind of man does that? No wonder she loved Bryce and not you. You were the job, loser, that's all, just the job.'_

"They think I'm crazy, Sarah. Hared out on a mission. Wouldn't leave you behind even after I'd killed you, baby. I killed you and I'm so sorry, but I couldn't let you shoot Toc again. But I went back for you, Sarah, I went back and got you out. You didn't burn in the fire, you didn't suffocate in the container, I got you out but you keep calling to me and I can't find you. Where are you, Sarah?" He was crying now, unable to think clearly, he needed this to end. Would he never find peace?

"Chuck, are you alone? Is there anyone near you? Give them the phone, Chuck. Please give them the phone, sweetheart."

He brought the phone away from his ear and stared at it. He closed his eyes and listened to the voice in his dreams yelling from the phone. "Where are you, Chuck? Please, don't do this to us. We can get it back, I know we can. You're my Paladin not a freak, you're my hero who went out alone in the dark to fight the yeti, knowing he was going to die."

And he compared it to another voice… , '_you should have died like a normal man, abomination, freak, you left her to die, alone in the dark, no air, fire all around…'_

He looked at Lila who was on her cell and talking to Beckman. "…finally, yes, losing it, all that stress and tension and loss. Thank God he's with me. Coming back now. On the phone with Sarah Walker. Yes, General. Right now." She took the cell phone out of his trembling hand and began talking to Walker.

He pulled his weapon and looked at it. Then he looked at Lila Bloom. So simple. He knew what he had to do. He knew suddenly what had been done to him. He could get Sarah back. He could have everything in life they'd promised each other, just not here.

"Sarah, this is Lila Bloom. I was taking Chuck down to rent a car. It's bad, Sarah, please come home. He'll need you. Right now I'm on my way back to FT Meade. Let me know when your flight gets _**Chuck, NO!**_ "

The pistol was so heavy and it seemed to have a life of its own as he dragged it up over his chest, fighting to maintain a grip on it. And then everything was…'

_**Bang|**_

_The pain was brief and unexpected. His face felt like someone had torn it open with a branding iron…_

'_He was standing in his high mountain pass feeling the cold from the winds and the crunching snow under his boots. His ice axe dangled from one wrist and he adjusted his goggles enjoying the scene as the sun's terminator line raced across the glacier that melted into the lake in the valley below. Slowly and carefully he started his descent carefully picking out the path across the glacier to the waiting tree line. From there he would be able to see the lakeshore. He was __**finally**__ going home…'_

**P/N: One more chapter(as far as I know) to go. Once again, thanks to gtpse.**


	3. Chapter 3

**P/N: **Here's part three…really hope that you've all been enjoying this read. This is all I have of this story and I'm not sure if there's any more. If I find anymore, I will of course post it. Thanks again to Oldestman and gtpse. Once again, if any of you have any of APR's older stuff that isn't posted in his current account, I would definitely love to have a copy and I'll make sure it gets added to his account. I have an unfinished and unpolished story of Jim's titled 'Separate Lies, Separate Lies' and I'm debating about posting what I have. The story is rough and contains bits and pieces that ended up in Kappa, The Game, Slip of The Tongue and even a reference in GEG. If anyone's interested in seeing it, let me know. JT

_A/N: As promised. Some of you will be upset and others thrilled and a fairly large percentage of you will not even finish it but that's ok because…it just is. Now, read dialogue carefully and note how the whole thing now wraps around like a Mobeus Strip. If you don't know what it is, it's a plane shape with only ONE side. Make your own. Take a piece of tablet paper and cut an inch wide strip off the long way so you have a 1" x 11" strip of paper. Take one end and twist it 180 degrees then tape it to the other end. Take a pen or pencil and draw a line over the surface. It's got one side. And so does this plot. _

_It's not as long as the other chapters but my other life keeps demanding my time._

_Time's running out and I have to finish the GEG and Pandora… so many women and so little time left…lol_

_Armor Plated Rat_

'_He was standing in his high mountain pass feeling the cold from the winds and the crunching snow under his boots. His ice axe dangled from one wrist and he adjusted his goggles enjoying the scene as the sun's terminator line raced across the glacier that melted into the lake in the valley below. Slowly and carefully he started his descent carefully picking out the path across the glacier to the waiting tree line. From there he would be able to see the lakeshore. He was __**finally**__ going home…'_

**4 Hours After the Gunshot in Chapter 2**

Dr. Lila Bloom walked out of the mini operating room in the dispensary pulling off her latex gloves and placing them in the hazardous waste container followed by her blood-stained operating gown.

"I tied off the major bleeder and stitched him up, General. Son of a bitch but that was a close one. I thought for sure it had all gone to hell in a hand basket. If he'd made the connection seconds earlier I'd be dead right now and you'd be trying to explain to the Chief how it never happened."

"Thank God he was with you, Lila. If he'd been alone I shudder to think what might have happened. What we might have lost. All that time invested in him, lost."

"I knew he was going down to rent a car so I shot him up with enough juice to make an elephant wig out and offered him a ride. Now we'll just drop him in the tank and do a little reality adjustment and he'll be good as new."

"Only fly in the ointment is that Walker was on the phone and she knows what went down. I couldn't stop him from drawing his weapon. He wasn't going to use it on himself. He was going to kill me! I saw recognition on his face when he heard her voice on the cell phone saying what I said when he'd been tanked. I had no choice, General. Sometimes the Chief is scary smart."

"I know and there's no way to keep her from flying here to be by his side. I'll have the travel unit cut her tickets so she'll incur every possible delay but we'll have to move quickly. Get him back into the conditioning cycle. He has to be ready by the time she arrives. She's the best operative the CIA had so make sure it's done thoroughly and correctly."

"No slip ups this time, Dr. Bloom. No personal agendas. Find another potential 'mate', Lila. This one is definitely off the market."

"How long will it be before he's operational, doctor?" Beckman was anxious to have her #1 team in the field again. The replacements were easy to find. A leader with the innate skills and almost uncanny ability to pull off miracles in the field were rare and Chief was the only one of his kind in her organization. She knew that every time he went active she was risking the Intersect but there were greater rewards waiting for the bold.

"As I told you, the cycle will take 45 days but probably a full 60 now with this set back. We could have kept him isolated for the full 45 days if he hadn't been so damned stubborn and willful. Too many people knew he was going on med leave to have just detained him in the conditioning wing."

"I have to call Walker. It's been 2 hours since my last 'update' on his condition. I'm surprised she hasn't chartered a plane or started driving to DC. Put him in the tank and get him lucid and functional, even if it's only marginally so. Prime him and we'll see about getting him a full-time babysitter. I'll offer Walker the protective slot again as an inducement and 'ask' her to return."

**Unknown Place/Time**

Pain. Nothing else. No sense of heat or cold or weight, or light or the passage of time, just the pain. And it burned and soon became the center of his universe. It was the only sense he seemed to have left, pain.

He was in Hell and he screamed but made no sound.

The voice started minutes, hours, days later. He had no concept of time, just the pain.

"_You were in pain, Chuck. You are always in pain. Your back, your face and eyes hurt constantly. Your soul hurts. You know you are weak, Chuck. You don't deserve her. The pistol was the answer to your pain, your agony. Pulling the trigger was so easy but you couldn't even do that right, could you, Chuck. You need Sarah, Chuck, Sarah. The woman you abandoned to die can save you now, Chuck. But you have to beg her because you've hurt her so badly."_

He feels something cool spread slowly throughout his being and the pain seems to fade driven back down to manageable levels.

The voice continued it's lulling litany always repeating the same message until finally the pain begins to rise again and the voice fades, disappearing in the blazing heat of the pain.

"_Emotional ties destroy team unity. Your team is your life. You only need the team. You only need the team and Sarah, Chief. Carina says she loves you but she doesn't. Carina will betray you but not Sarah. Carina will leave you, Chief, just like Robin Thorne did but not Sarah. She is your constant. The mission comes first always; Sarah understands that. She will not leave you. She will not fail you. When Fulcrum falls you'll all be free."_

Again he feels the blessed cool begin to spread and the pain abates but does not totally disappear.

_Emotion clouds reason and results in poor decisions. Poor decisions make for dead agents. Dead agents make for a failed mission. Mission failure is unacceptable. The mission must come first. Protect the team, accomplish the mission. Nothing else matters. You do not matter. Only the mission matters._

He thinks he feels another wave of cool relief dousing the fiery pain and he hears 'y_ou need Sarah, Chief, Sarah, You need Sarah, Sarah._

The pain is gone. _She_ brings the cool relief and release. The pain is gone.

NSA Medical Dispensary

Restricted Treatment Center

(Caution: Biohazard Area Protective Clothing Required)

Lila Bloom took off her lab coat and stretched to loosen muscles grown tight bending over an operating table. Bartowski had required more time than she's planned on to find the bleeder and tie it off and then the time-consuming removal of all the bits and pieces of damaged tissue. The stitching went quickly and her deft and sure strokes would ensure minimal scaring. Leaving the surgical nurse to apply the post-operative dressings, she'd taken a break and discussed their situation with the General.

She watched the various monitoring devices to ensure the patient's well being and then turned on the monitor to listen to the recording being repeated over and over to the unconscious man floating in the 'tank'.

"_You were in pain, Chuck. You are always in pain. Your back and eyes hurt constantly. Your soul hurts. You know you are weak, Chuck. You don't deserve her. The pistol was the answer to your pain, your agony. Pulling the trigger was so easy but you couldn't even do that right, could you, Chuck. You need Sarah, Chuck, Sarah. The woman you abandoned to die can save you now, Chuck. But you have to beg her because you've hurt her so badly."_

It went through several cycles and then switched to the 'conditioning' set.

"_Emotional ties destroy team unity. Your team is your life. You only need the team. You only need the team and Sarah, Chief. Carina says she loves you but she doesn't. Carina will betray you but not Sarah. Carina will leave you, Chief, just like Robin Thorne did but not Sarah. She is your constant. The mission comes first always; Sarah understands that. She will not leave you. She will not fail you. When Fulcrum falls you'll all be free."_

That nonsense repeated itself ad nauseum but surprisingly it was effective. Bartowski had severed all his emotional ties, Walker, his sister and John Casey and he really believed his mantra. Anything not approved would cause the mission to fail. This was backed up by cyclical repetition in the 'tank'.

Bartowski feared abandonment by those he loved and depended on. It fed that irrational fear. It told him he was strong by preempting their leaving_. "Send them away. Keep them away. Keep them safe. Avoid all contact. They are a liability. Send them away before they leave you, Chief. Continue the mission. Remember the mission. Liabilities are potential weaknesses to be exploited by an enemy. Liabilities equal mission failure and are unacceptable. You must not fail so you must not have liabilities."_

If you tell someone something enough it becomes their truth. Hide the lie between two truths and it becomes truth.

Twenty-four hours in the tank would overcome any resistance to the constant mantra and suggestions augmented by pain and relieved by the potential presence of Sarah Walker in the form of a very small dose of Demerol and muscle relaxants.

He'd been a difficult subject initially but the electro-shocks to his back muscles provided the pain and the muscle relaxants and their timed release provided the cool relief. Repetition brought proper conditioning and attitude and he and his fellow subjects would be willing participants in the Spear Team Project.

**6 Hours after the Gunshot in Chapter 2**

"Walker, secure."

"Beckman, secure. Sarah, pack your bags and pick up your ticket at LAX. He needs you, Sarah. He's stabilized and it looks like this was all a medically-induced crash. He's either allergic to the medications he's been receiving to restore his immune system or there's some interaction between the meds and the pain pills he started taking for his back and eyes. Bloom is running a full tox screen on him now that's he's out of surgery and stable and we'll have the answer and solution before you arrive."

"Thank you, General. I was uncertain about the situation. How – how is he?"

"Sedated and in restraints. He's too damned clever for his own good and dangerous to boot. Bloom has repaired the damage to his face and it should leave minimal scaring. He broke the arm of an EMT and the jaw of another when our Emergency Response Unit arrived on the scene. Sarah. I don't know 'where he was' but it wasn't a pleasant place. Perhaps the glacier or maybe the packing plant."

"I'll have someone meet your plane, Sarah. Please hurry. And please reconsider the position as his Protective Services bodyguard. Lord knows he gets into enough trouble on missions and he needs a full-time protector."

Sarah would not have accepted the position nor thanked General Beckman so effusively had she seen the look on her face at that moment. She would have killed her.

2 Days Later

BWI Airport, Baltimore MD

Lila Bloom had been waiting for Sarah Walker's flight for the past hour only to find it had been delayed in Pittsburgh due to weather over the Alleghenies. _'Well, Beckman can't take credit for this delay, just the incredible number she'd already had thrown in the path of Sarah Walker's flight from Los Angeles to Washington and she's been rerouted here instead of Reagan International in DC'._

The first delay had occurred in Los Angeles when all departing flights had been held on the tarmac for 4 hours while airport officials waited for the traffic control system to be rebooted. The second delay was in Los Angeles as well when the pilot announced they were returning to the jet way to disembark passengers and transfer to another aircraft that was being prepped. It seems that #4 turbofan was performing sub-optimally and overheating.

Eight hours after arriving at LAX, she finally departed. Finally. The plane diverted to Denver to discharge a passenger who apparently had developed a hot appendix and a doctor onboard cautioned the airline that civil litigation would certainly be forthcoming if the passenger were not immediately taken to a hospital. Another 4 hours lost to landing, refueling and departure only to incur an abort when a machinists wildcat strike halted all flights until airline officials could reach a settlement. The unionized pilots would not fly while their brethren were on strike as a sign of solidarity.

She spent the night at the Airport Marriott and finally caught her flight at 7am only to be delayed in Pittsburgh due to weather.

She finally deplaned and was met by Dr. Bloom a full 30 hours after leaving LA.

"Lila, how is he?"

"Hello, Sarah, how are you?" She laughed and tried to lighten the moment.

"I'm homicidal so cut the cute act and answer my damned question." She was in no mood for joking. No one would take her calls last evening and she was intensely worried about Chuck.

"He's stable and improving. We've identified the conflicting drugs and have changed his meds without any problems. I've also shot him up with some leaching agents to purge the old drugs totally from his system. That will take a week at the most. He's ready, medically, for discharge but not duty, Sarah. He's still mentally shaken and your arrival is contributing immensely to it."

"What? Why?" That stopped her dead in her tracks.

"I told him you were coming, Sarah. He had a panic attack. He's terrified of your reaction. He sent you away, Sarah, for the best of reasons, to keep you safe. He's refused all contact but he's in trouble and he sees this as a failure. He doesn't want you here, Sarah, because he's ashamed of what happened and his weakness. He sees this as further proof that he can't keep you safe and that keeping you at arms' length is the only way to keep you safe."

"That's crap. After all he's been through. And it's a medical problem. He's not suicidal, you said so yourself. It was the conflicting meds, that's what you said."

"Yes, but he was on the brink, Sarah. He totally lost it on his last mission. He had to eliminate a Fulcrum agent in a firefight to save one of his men. He disassociated after pulling his teammate to safety and thought he'd killed you. Talk to Hansen before you see him. She can explain what happened much better than I can. I'm a doctor and the after-action briefings are so full of jargon and so much is 'censored' on a need-to-know basis that I can't really get a good picture of what happened."

In point of fact, Lila Bloom knew exactly what had happened. Chuck Bartowski was not a hardened killer. He was, at heart, a gentle soul, more at home in an academic setting than running around Fulcrum Hives leading a bunch of people who _were _hardened killers. His sharp mind and access to the Intersect almost ensured a successful outcome of every action.

But greasing a Walker look-alike had shaken him badly. Add the stress of the past months. Add the chronic pain that never seemed to go away completely. Add the loss of all the people who formed his 'family' and he was just a nudge away from falling apart.

NSA Strike Team Billets

FT Meade, MD

"Carina, I need to talk to you."

"Sarah? What are you doing here? Are you authorized to be here?"

"Here as in this room or here as in FT Meade?"

"Either, both."

"Yes. Beckman called me and urged me to come. Bloom says to talk to you about a mission so here I am. And yes, I'm cleared for the details as they affect Chuck."

"Fine, but you already know about the last mission, Sarah, I explained it to you. He hared out and lost it when he thought he'd capped you, Sarah, and I couldn't convince him otherwise."

"He kept apologizing to the body that he was sorry he'd killed Bryce because it ruined your marriage and then he said he was sorry he'd killed you because it ruined his. We've already been over this, Nightmare. There's nothing more to tell. He's unfit for command until he gets over this. He can't stop shaking and sometimes he just sits and stares for hours without any interaction at all. Sarah, he's the best man I've met in a long time but he's incapable of performing as required. He'll get himself and, probably, us killed the next time we go out."

"Fine. Have you seen him?"

"No. He's in a restricted section, I guess because of his actions with the Doc. No one gets in there."

"We'll see about that. I didn't come all this way to sit outside like some…damned camp follower. Thanks and I'll see you later."

NSA Medical Dispensary

FT Meade, MD

"He's in a private room, Sarah, that's all. Carina is so dramatic sometimes. I restricted visitors until you got here and could talk to him. The Chief deserves his privacy and dignity and the respect of this facility and my job is to see he gets it. Now, go see him. He was awake after eating what we call 'the noon mystery meal'."

She walked down the hall to his room. The twenty feet seemed like twenty miles. Her heart was pounding and her hands were trembling and she stopped just outside the door and forced herself to calm down, relax and put a smile on her face. In truth, she felt like running away.

What if he didn't want to see her? What if he wouldn't talk to her? What if he sent her away?

She took a deep breath and walked into his room and then up beside him. She looked at him and he looked at her for what seemed like a lifetime to her and he just opened his arms and welcomed her home without a word being said between them.

Sarah toed off her heels and crawled up beside him and was enveloped in his arms and still nothing was said. She breathed in the scent she'd only had second hand for the past months.

Finally, she broke the silence. "It wasn't me in that Hive, Chuck. I'm here and she's dead. You didn't ruin my life by killing Bryce. That was over a long time before I even met you. I was just going through the motions, doing my job, waiting for the day I finally failed and my existence would end. I wanted that. Not because of Bryce but because I had no hope of ever having someone other than a 'Bryce' in my life and I finally realized that wasn't good enough."

"And then I got assigned to be your handler. Beckman told me to be a hard-ass and get and keep you in line for your own good. Graham told me the exact opposite. I treated you like shit and you just kept on doing what the mission required even when it meant putting up with The Nightmare in all her glory. I started to weaken then, Chuck. I started to feel again and to care about things, people, the future."

"The turning point was the Stockton operation. I knew I was losing my grip on who I was, that I was changing and I was afraid of becoming…less than I had been. I was afraid of caring and it scared the crap out of me. You scared the crap out of me, Chuck. And when you said your warranty had expired, I heard myself lecturing you that if you had followed instructions…"

"You didn't trust me and I couldn't blame you. I kept you at arms' length to protect myself. I used every trick in the Montgomery Guide but I was lost. I grabbed the GPS and went in to find you, not to rescue you but to be with you at the end. I didn't want you to die alone and I didn't want to live without you. I didn't realize 'why' until later, of course, but that was the real reason I ran into that barn instead of guiding you out. You wouldn't have made it and you'd have died, alone."

"And then you put me into that container and…"

Chuck interrupted her long speech. He didn't need to hear it. He'd heard or figured out most of it long before now.

"I know all that. You told me; and what you didn't tell me in the tub in Lhasa you told me in our hammock on the rooftop and the rest doesn't matter. What we do here is important, Sarah, critical to our nation. We cannot fail and that means some of us had to commit ourselves totally to the mission of bringing down Fulcrum. I – I – I mean only the missions are important but the mission comes first, always; you understand that, Sarah, don't you?"

She nodded her head, suddenly uncomfortable with this conversation. The more he talked the less emotion he displayed, the more stilted his syntax became.

"I –I - don't deserve you, Sarah. The pistol was the answer to all the pain. Pulling the trigger was so easy but I couldn't even do that right, could I, Sarah? I need you, Sarah, I know I abandoned you, hurt you so badly but I need you to save won't fail me. Sarah, you won't leave me and when Fulcrum falls we'll all be free."

Now she was alarmed. The look in his eyes, so far away and so dreadfully lifeless, and the way he spoke, it was as if he'd memorized a speech in a foreign language and got the sounds right but the words were somehow wrong.

"Chuck, if I ask Beckman for the job of being your Protective Agent and she agrees, will you be happy? Can we be together like before on your missions? Is there a place for me on your team? Please say yes… I want us to be together again, like before, Chuck."

_The mission comes first always; Sarah understands that._

"Yes, Sarah. I'd like that very much." His smile was tentative and pulled down on the left side by the sutures and surgical tape. Still, it was the first time she'd seen his smile in months and it was like a ray of sunshine to her. She'd been so afraid when she heard Lila scream 'No, Chuck!" and then the mumbling and then the gunshot. And then the dial tone and no one would answer the phone.

"And are we going to get married, Chuck? You asked, actually you proposed, and I didn't answer you, but yes, I want to get married, and not for the job but because I can't be without you in my life. And maybe a little bit because I know you don't like to lose and Beckman will have to pony up for the Fiji honeymoon." '_And I don't want you going with that dried up hag, although I think that was just an idle threat on her part, a motivator…but I will not take that chance.'_

"Do you really want to marry me, Sarah, after I've hurt you so badly? I want nothing more in the world but the mission has to come first, Sarah, you understand that, don't you?"

Sarah nodded her head and wondered again about his speech pattern and why the stress on mission completion and priority. But as long as she went along, he'd be safe and his record of successful missions and operations spoke for itself. She'd keep him safe and healthy and they'd work out all the problems together, head on.

"Yes, Chuck, I understand what you did and why you did it now after realizing how committed you are to the tasks. But I want to get married now, today or tomorrow, no more delays, no more excuses, no more 'something's come up'. Is that too soon? It's how it has to be. No more delays, Chuck. I love you and you love me and I want us to be husband and wife so I can join the team and watch your back while we kick Fulcrum ass all over the place."

She watched his face light up with her 'married now, today' and his slow nod and growing smile was all she needed.

"Good, baby, I'm going to see Beckman and tell her that I want the job and we're getting hitched. You go back to sleep. I love you, Chuck, warts and all. We'll get through this together, but we're going to have a long conversation about bottling things up. Now, work on those sleep reserves, gray hair, you're going to need them." She giggled and got off his bed and slipped back into her heels and left to find Beckman.

Lila Bloom smiled although it was not a pleasant smile. She'd been 'monitoring' her patient's progress through the bugs planted in his room. Things were going according to plan despite the setback in the car.

She would never forget the look on the Chief's face or the rage and hate in his eyes when he struggled to raise his pistol and shoot her. Her involuntary scream of '_**Chuck, NO!' **_invoked the conditioning protocols and saved her life. She was able to take the pistol from his shaking hands and place the muzzle against his face and fire.

She'd hung up Chuck's cell phone on a screaming Sarah Walker and called Beckman for a cleanup team of "EMTs".

She refused to take responsibility for putting him in the tank, for forcing his perspective to change so drastically and radically thanks to the drug cocktail she'd shot him up with and the conditioning tapes. No. This Sarah Walker was the cause of it all, not her. She called him Bryce, she made an unconditional decision conditional. Lila Bloom salved her conscience although that didn't take long. God, how she hated Sarah Walker.

**General Beckman's office**

"Sarah, how did your reunion with Bartowski go? Any progress? He's on leave as soon as he's out of the dispensary and that should be anytime since it's really just a deep laceration according to Dr. Bloom. You do understand that it was the interactions of the medicines that brought this all on, don't you? That and stress. He was put on leave for stress relief, Sarah, not because he was imagining things. Pure stress, that's all. I've let him set a grueling schedule and now it's caught up to us."

"He's better, I think, than the last time I saw him. He's more reserved now, less talkative but more 'to the point'. He seems more mature but almost tentative in some respects. He asked me to marry him and I've said 'yes', of course."

"But I won't be his little stay-at-home-wife. I want that protective slot you offered me, General. No one can cover his back better than I can and you'll never have to worry about defection or treachery."

Beckman smiled, thinking how Bloom's predictions had come to pass, with a little help from some operant conditioning.

They talked for the better part of half an hour and then Beckman eased into the subject of his leave.

"He's got 45 days medical leave, Sarah, and I want him to take it. Why don't you and he plan on just going away someplace quiet and work out the kinks in your relationship and then when you come back, he'll be hale and healthy and you can join the team as his bodyguard."

"Actually, General, once he's passed Bloom's tests, I thought we'd get married quietly and then take advantage of his Fiji vacation as a honeymoon."

"I'll talk to Bloom and get her moving on certifying him and then we can talk about the wedding, assuming he agrees to your plans for a 'quiet wedding.'.

"Trust me, General, he'll agree."

General Beckman's Office

2 Days Later

"Once he returns to duty from Fiji I'll need to run some comparisons to baseline. I'm sending him with a supply of 'immune system restoration drugs" that will both bring up his resistance levels to disease as well as keep him from remembering anything damaging while he's out of our control. Still, he is the intersect and a visual or auditory stimulus could trigger a memory dump; everything he knows but that we've walled off from his conscious access would come roaring to the forefront like a cerebral tsunami. Might be interesting to wire him up and trigger the dump just to see what would happen."

"Lila, enough of your Mengelen experiments. We need him in the field with his team eradicating any Fulcrum elements and recovering all the data they can find from any computer or hard files. It's imperative we find those listings. Damn Bartowski for his 'do the right thing'."

"I want him back in the field within 45 days. He's been here two days and you initially recommended 45 days' leave. Do your magic. Dope him up if you have to but I want the Chief back with his team when he gets back from his honeymoon."

NSA Headquarters

24 hours later

Diane Beckman was limping down the hallway when she felt a touch and turned to see who was there.

"Sarah, you're looking well today."

"We're leaving as soon as he gets dressed. You know where we'll be. I'll contact you in 2 weeks with a status report unless I hear from you first."

"Good. I want him ready for duty with his team when you return. He has much to accomplish and little time to do so. This has cost us too much time already."

"Well, we'll be in Maine for two weeks at a bed & breakfast for his initial recuperation and then on to Fiji for three weeks and then we'll be back in action. Team Yeti, the new and improved version. I'll see you later, General. And thanks for the honeymoon trip. You knew he wouldn't let you win, didn't you?"

Sarah Bartowski walked briskly back to her husband's hospital room. They'd gotten married the day after she'd returned. Beckman had setup a wedding in the base chapel and suborned the base Chaplin to perform the ceremony.

'_No, Sarah, he wouldn't let me win. And I couldn't let him lose. He's got a lot to do before we can say "Victory". There'll be changes to the organization. Bloom has to toughen up and be more proactive and forget the men and women we're conditioning. She's a Nazi at heart, that one. Carina, she'll go to another team as leader and as a supporting asset to Team Yeti. Casey stays where his is, as far from Bartowski as I can get him. And Sarah, you'll be there keeping Chuck steady and focused, a true marriage of woman and machine.'_

"Hold still while I finish you injections. You immune system was really whacked when you transitioned, Chief, and you're susceptible to any number of common ailments we all have resistance to. All these months and I still don't see improvement to levels I'd like. You know, you could come down with any number of 'childhood diseases' like chickenpox, mumps, measles, rubella. And you definitely don't want to get the mumps, not at your age."

"I'm glad I hared out with a doctor in attendance. Convenient, wasn't it?"

"You going to pay to detail my car, Chief? Replace the headliner and repair a 9mm hole in the damned roof?"

"Quit picking on the cripple. And if you're done torturing me, I have to find Sarah and then pack for our 'trial' honeymoon in Maine. Then in two weeks it's off to Fiji for 3 weeks of sun and surf. Nice leave you arranged, Lila. And thank the General again for the Fiji deal. And don't let her skip those massage sessions. You know how grumpy and cranky she gets. I notice she's limping again, too. Don't slack off on her."

"Use those two weeks to decompress, Chief, and work out the issues between you. Makes it easier down the road, believe me."

'_And since Walker has agreed to provide daily updates on your mental condition, Chief, I can have you back in the tank within hours if your behavior begins to deviate from the norm…normal for you.'_

**Madison, ME**

Sarah had driven the civilian-plated pool car to Madison, Maine and had no trouble finding the bed & breakfast in the small seaside town. Since it was the 'off season', they had the entire place to themselves. No one came to the Maine seacoast for the weather in winter.

Chuck had slept most of the way and Sarah had pushed the car to its limits many times knowing that he was unaware of her speed. He always lectured her on her high speed maneuvers so this was a great time for her to enjoy pushing the beast along the winding roads along the coast.

Chuck was not asleep. He was simply 'chillin' and enjoying his freedom. He trusted Sarah's driving and could easily sleep if he'd wanted but kept his head turned toward the passenger window and enjoyed the snowy scenery. Tonight he would sleep in a bed without gadgets attached to him and without the feeling lurking in the back of his mind that he wasn't where he thought he was. He'd probably dream but he'd brought some of Bloom's 'white outs' and knew if he took one of those his sleep would be relatively dream-free. He didn't want to dream any more. Ever.

Chuck took care of the registration and carried their bags up to their rooms. Sarah had reserved a suite of rooms consisting of a sitting room, bath and bedroom. Chuck noted the absence of a TV and chuckled. He was sure Sarah didn't watch television and he had no intention of wasting a single minute of his pre-honeymoon on something as mindless as the Great Wasteland.

He went back down for the two garment bags and his briefcase. He'd started carrying a briefcase on road trips between missions since it was 'socially acceptable' and ordinary. His briefcase carried two pistols with extra magazines as well as two boxes of cartridges for each and a silencer. Sarah's eyebrows had gone up through her hairline when he'd asked her for her 'piece' and put it and his 9mm into the foam cutouts. He'd gone to the armory and picked up the extra cartridge boxes. He'd ordered her something special but as usual they'd been backordered. So much for internet convenience. But they'd be waiting for her when they got back.

Chuck realized that he'd not seen his bride since she'd parked the car and asked him to take care of checking them in. Once, he wouldn't have given it a second thought and just gone about his business knowing she'd show up when she was ready. Now, however, things were different. His perspective on the world in general had changed and his first thought was for his weapon.

He tucked his 9mm into the pocket of his jacket and ambled around looking for Sarah. He walked through the small informal lobby and out onto the porch that surrounded the entire first floor of the house. He walked around to the ocean side and found a rocking chair with her purse on it but no Sarah.

This could not be happening. This was his damned honeymoon and some SOB was messing with his wife. He cocked his weapon, made sure the safety was on and walked briskly around the corner and stopped dead in his tracks.

Sarah was leaning against the railing talking into her cell phone and she was crying. He overheard her say "…love you, too, and I'll let you know how things turn out. I'll call tomorrow if I can get some privacy. Bye."

Chuck spun on his heel and walked quietly back into the lobby and up the stairs to their rooms. '_I love you, too…_' Well, he had only himself to blame. He'd hurt her horribly and had her removed from the team and sent back to California and her old job along with Casey and his sister. She was an incredibly beautiful woman and he hadn't expected her to sit around mourning him. He wasn't dead this time. She had no obligation to him, no reason to mourn this time. So why was she even here? If she loved someone else, why in the hell did she come here and agree to marry him?

He wouldn't make the same mistake again. He'd learned to work only from facts, not suppositions, hunches or theories or, God forbid, _feelings_. Hard, cold, unchallengeable facts. He'd ask her. If she lied, he'd know it. If she lied then she was a liability. Liabilities were dangerous and could potentially cause a mission to fail. Missions could not fail. Failure was not an acceptable option. Liabilities must be eliminated.

Sarah was upset with herself. She shouldn't have made the call. What was done was done and she couldn't change what had happened. They'd gotten married in the base Chapel by an Army chaplain as soon as he was pronounced 'fit' by Lila Bloom. Ellie would just have to get over missing her little brother's wedding. Damn her for making her feel guilty and making her cry. She shouldn't have made the damned call.

She opened the door to their room and saw her brand new husband sitting on the love seat in front of the fireplace, silenced pistol in hand. For a moment she thought she'd interrupted a suicide attempt but from the look on his face it was more serious than that.

"I didn't mean to overhear your phone conversation but I was looking for you and got worried. Irrational, I know but I was worried. I heard you tell someone 'I love you, too…' Care to explain?"

His eyes never left hers. His hand gripped the pistol in a familiar and comfortable manner. The silencer spoke more about intent than any words might.

Sarah's eyes widened and she realized what he must be thinking. He was no longer the naïve nerd she'd met long ago in Burbank. He was, through no fault of his own, now a full-fledged inhabitant of her world, the world of lies, deceit, shifting loyalties and betrayal.

He wouldn't go off by himself and sulk and reach all the wrong conclusions. No. He would attack the problem head on and eliminate it if it posed a threat.

"I was talking to Ellie. She's very pissed at us, well, me especially, for getting married without her and Casey. She's your sister and she feels cheated out of one of the happiest days of our lives. She can really play on my feelings of guilt and it upset me so much. Chuck, we always tell each other we love them at the end of a phone conversation. We're like sisters now."

"Thank you for telling me the truth straight out. It's refreshing. I don't mean to insult you but things are different now. I'm different. Beckman says I've got a huge price on my head and I don't know who I can trust anymore. Apparently the amount is staggering. Thank you for coming back. Thank you for being with me. And thank you for …"

She closed the distance between them so quickly he didn't have time to react. She was on him in a second, gently removing the 9mm from his hand and setting it on the floor and then putting her arms around his neck and bursting into tears. He had no idea what to do so he just picked her up, walked into the bedroom and laid her on the bed, taking off her shoes and kicking off his and laying down beside her and letting her wrap herself around him and cry. He felt like such a shit.

She told him she was proud of him, proud to be his wife and partner and most of all that she loved him but was also heartbroken that he'd become just like her. He was totally confused. He'd expected her to be angry and hurt. Certainly not proud.

"Chuck, you're so much more than the man I fell in love with in Burbank. You've come so far in such a short time and so much has happened to us. I just want these next five weeks to be our time. No NSA, no Fulcrum, no Ellie or Beckman, just Chuck and Sarah Bartowski, OK? Will you put it all aside and just let us have these next five weeks of 'normal'?"

"Sweetheart, I'm just sorry it's not more than five weeks. And I'm sorry I doubted you but Sarah, my life, my very existence, has all been focused on our operations. It's going to take me a while to set all that crap aside but I'll try. And you've got to forgive me if I slip sometimes. I never knew how hard you and Casey had to work to keep my ass out of trouble and just how little I appreciated it. So, let's forget all the spy crap and just enjoy being newly weds. OK? I'll try hard and you'll have to let me know when I screw up, Sarah. It's become second nature to me."

"That's all I'm asking for. Remember back when you took me to the beach for the first time and I went with you to the apartment? I felt so comfortable there and I could imagine us living there, normal and happy. It's why I went there after…after the…shit, it's like home to me when I'm not with you."

"We'll get a house near FT Meade, or an apartment, and we'll have normal every second we're there. We'll leave the other world at the door, Sarah, and never let it in. Is that what you want?"

"Exactly what I want. And it doesn't come here, either, Chuck. I turned off my phone. Please turn off yours. If they need us, they can damned well come here."

"Sarah, I'm sorry but I can't turn my off. Regulations."

"Damn it, Chuck, this is supposed to be our…"

He cut her off with a kiss.

"I forgot mine in the dispensary." Another kiss.

"In the exam room." Another kiss, longer this time.

"I think it got kicked…" A nice long kiss with her hands lightly running over his chest, unbuttoning his shirt..

"under the secure cabinet…" Her tongue tickled his lips, begging for entrance.

"by accident." A long, deep kiss, while she pulled his shirt out of his pants and fumbled with his belt.

He broke off the kiss and whispered, "Mrs. Bartowski, 'Fast and Furious' is a movie. Slow down. We have all the time in the world." She chuckled and buried her lips into the warm hollow of his neck, suckling at it and kneading it with her tongue. "Sorry, it's just that it's been so long and I've missed this so much, Chuck, and I want you so bad. I ache for you, gray haired lover, and it's been so long."

He kissed her softly, increasing the pressure and allowing her tongue to duel with his. He gathered up all the love and longing he'd felt for her during the past months and put it into the kiss.

She gasped and broke the kiss and took his face in her hands. "I never knew, I just thought you'd finally broken it off over that drunken stupid remark I made and then the trial and my lack of any response…I – I didn't stop to think how you felt, Chuck, just how I felt. I waited for you to do something and all the time you thought I hated you for…ah shit, Chuck, we wasted so much time because we can't get past our own insecurities. Baby, that has to end. No more secrets, OK? We tell each other everything, no holding back, no 'it's complicated' situations."

"I'm doing the best I can, Sarah. I'm not real good at 'revealing the inner Chuck'. Too many bad experiences when I did. I guess greeting you with a silenced 9mm is a step in the right direction, although it's a little…um… extreme."

"Ya think?"

The weather turned much colder and they put the fireplace in their room to good use. They spent a lot of time on the love seat pulled close to the fire making out like horny teenagers and thoroughly enjoying it. They brought back pizza from the town's only fast food venue and again enjoyed the fire and the wine Sarah insisted was 'perfect' for her vegetarian pizza (no olives, of course).

The huge claw-footed bathtub was also well used. Remembering the bathing pools in Lhasa, they spent a lot of time just soaking in the tub, Sarah lying back against him, a reversal of their roles, and talking about experiences, hopes and dreams, making plans and memories and making out like horny teenagers.

The first inkling of the problem surfaced in the huge 4-poster bed when Chuck had one of his dreams. It was a reprise of the barn scenario except this time Chuck was awakened by Sarah's struggles to breathe and her terror at being held by him and the heavy quilt.

"Don't, oh please, don't leave me here, I can't breathe, please, Chuck, don't leave me here to die…"

Chuck tossed the heavy cover off of them and then rolled over onto his back pulling Sarah with him and recreated the scene in the container. "I'm right here, Sarah, I have you. It's OK, you're safe, I'm safe, we're in our bed…" He repeated it with variations until she'd calmed down enough to actually wake up. Once again she'd popped him in the mouth as well as his stitched wound. He'd ignored the pain as he did in the container and concentrated on his wife, calming her, acknowledging her fear but telling her it was all in the past.

"Oh, Chuck, it was so real. I couldn't breathe and you were outside the container door and you were closing it and leaving me. It was so damned real."

"Hey, what's real is that you're in my arms in out 'marriage bed' and you're just upset about Ellie's call and probably overly tired from all the driving and fooling around we've done. It's OK. I still have some real terrors and no one wants to risk being frozen to death to help me, except Carina. She's been a great 2IC, Sarah. Now, if she could just leave the guys on the Teams alone…" He tried to get her mind off the container dream and onto something she could relate to in the here and now: the Carnivore aka Carina Hansen.

Just like in the container she inched up and put her cheek to his, kissing her way up from his mid-chest and exactly like the container she'd found his cheek slick with blood.

She rolled over and flicked on the lamp on the nightstand.

"Oh, crap, Chuck, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hit you, please forgive me. Oh, shit, I broke my promise. Don't leave, please! It was a mistake. I was dreaming." She started crying in earnest and he remembered the promise he'd exacted from her: if she ever hit him again, he was gone. Chuck wrapped his arms around her and did the only thing he knew to do, ramble.

"Shh, Sarah, it was an accident, probably a head butt. You didn't hit me and even if you did you were dreaming. No big deal, sweetheart, it was an accident. The only place I'm going is to get a cold cloth so it doesn't swell and interfere with our make-out sessions." He was keeping it light. It had been an accident and it would probably happen again. It was an occupational hazard.

She giggle-sniffed and pulled the comforter back over her and waited for him to come back and play big hot water bottle for her. While she loved sleeping nude and having as much contact with him as possible she was still dreadfully cold-natured and the comforter was a godsend.

He flipped on the light and shook his head. The lip was swollen but not cut. The blood was coming from under the surgical dressing running from the corner of his lip up to his temple. He had been so damned lucky that Lila had wrestled the pistol away when it went off. He didn't understand the angle but he was grateful nonetheless.

He peeled off the dressing, wincing occasionally as some portion of a stitch or dried blood stuck to the dressing, finally he just jerked the damned thing off. He tossed the bloody dressing into the waste can and patted the wound with a wet cloth. Chuck would not have been able to do what he had to do 2 years ago. He would have either passed out by now or been puking in the commode.

He opened his kit and took out the antiseptic spray, a clean gauze kit and surgical tape. After he sprayed the wound with the antiseptic as Lila had shown him, he slapped on the self-adhesive dressing and then secured the ends with the prepared surgical tape. Not bad for a beginner.

As he turned to leave he caught sight of his back and all the memories related to it came rushing in but he just blocked them out. He had a wife to attend to and his personal problems came a weak 2nd.

She was still awake and waiting for him. He turned on the room light and showed her the damage and his handiwork. "See, no blood. Just swelling from the beautiful blonde head butt." He turned off the light and slipped back into bed and pulled her into a warming embrace.

"Damn, woman, your feet are like ice! Didn't we have this conversation once before?"

She grinned and asked innocently, "Do you have a hat I can borrow?"

"Smart ass. Move over and bring those ice cubes you call feet up here for a warm up. I swear you do this deliberately to cop a cheap foot massage."

She was asleep well before he finished working his 'magic' on her frozen feet. How such a hot-blooded lover could have such cold feet never ceased to amaze him. Well, she was asleep and now he was very much awake.

Sighing, he covered up his wife until just her blonde tresses were visible and went over to the love seat and stirred the dying embers of the fire and added a few smaller pieces of very dry wood to the grate. In a few minutes the fire was again warming him and he added a few more logs to make sure it would stay warming if he fell asleep.

He put his feet up on the raised hearth and let his mind wander in what the shrinks at the NSA called 'free association' and what the Chief called 'waste of my damned time'. The Chief. A title and a role he greatly resented playing. He remembered that he hadn't taken his meds and got up and went into the bathroom. Six pills twice a day. It used to be four before he hared out on the mission and again in Lila's car.

The two extra pills were for 'mental relaxation' also known as tranquilizers. He wasn't bitter about taking tranks, if asked he could honestly say he was grateful for them since they allowed relatively dreamless sleeping. He hated dreaming and especially his reaction to being touched by someone while locked in a nightmare. Poor Carina had learned that the hard way.

'_I think I'd better explain my relationship with Carina to Sarah before she finds out the unvarnished BS that Carina will deploy hoping to upset Sarah. The two of them were so competitive, each trying to one-up the other. I am definitely not the prize in some weird female contest. I've already been won.'_

Finally feeling drowsy and closing the glass doors on the fireplace, he crawled back into bed to resume his sole function as 'large hot water bottle'. Sensing him, she rolled over and molded herself to him, sighed and was deeply asleep within a few seconds. He wasn't far behind.

They'd fallen into the newlywed routine easily and without any major glitches except when Sarah told Chuck she'd promised 'daily reports' on his overall health to Lila Bloom. She defused his anger and suspicion by making the calls in his presence.

He further defused the situation by sitting in front of her making weird faces and making her laugh outright or giggle.

Lila Bloom soon began to question the wisdom of daily reports, when it became obvious that Chuck was engaged in foreplay, once almost bringing Sarah to a climax before she hung up on her abruptly. Bloom replayed that briefing tape several times for her own enjoyment.

"Charles Bartowski, don't you ever do that to me again. I was on the phone with Lila Bloom and, my God, I'm only human, Chuck."

"So I can never, ever, you know, do this…"

Sarah interrupted him. "Oh, no, please, as often as you like, just not when I'm on the phone with Lila. Oh, yes, that's wonderful, please, I want you now, Chuck. Here and now."

"Sarah, we're in the parking lot at Wal-Mart. Not cool."

"I don't care if we're in the drive-through at Wendy's, you started this, now finish me… I mean, oh hell, baby, let's get back to the B&B."

The situation was definitely defused.

They headed back to FT Meade for a few days of orientation for Sarah and more medical tests and evaluations for Chuck. Neither was looking forward to the separation.

"It's only two nights, Sarah. You'll be in Virginia at the Secret Service training school and I'll be here. I'll miss you but well, that's the way it has to be."

NSA Medical Dispensary

10am

"Welcome back, Chief. How was the practice honeymoon?" Lila Bloom already knew but the more questions she asked the more open and friendly the Chief would become.

"Too short. These next two days are going to be really weird without her around. What did I miss? Any new intel to report?"

"Carina's has her own team, Chief. It's the way the General wants it since she and Sarah are…both very competitive, especially about you." She laughed. The General's exact words were 'separate those two. It's like being around dogs in heat when Chief's around.'

"Chuck, she put Toc back on the active rolls and she took him as her 2IC. It's her team and her call. He was medically qualified and wanted back on the spear teams, even if it wasn't the 'Tip of the Spear' Yetis. She said it was her call and you could just live with it."

"Damn her. She wouldn't dare say that to my face. She waits until I'm out of the loop and goes behind my back. Toc's not ready for spear team duty. He's run more ops than anyone but me. He's running out of lives, Lila. It's so unfair of her."

"The missions come first, Chief. You know that. You made the rules." Reinforcement might be necessary. She had two nights to tank him.

"He's a liability, Lila. He _knows_ he's running on borrowed time. I could see it in his eyes. Liabilities make for failures and missions cannot fail. Liabilities must be eliminated. Mission failure is not an option, Dr. Bloom. You should know that."

"Well, Team Carnivore is out right now and due in later tomorrow, just a sneak and peak and plant some bugs. You'll be able to see just how well they did. Sit in on the after action debriefing. You can interpret for me." The last was said with a laugh. Lila never understood half of what was discussed at briefings.

In the meantime, Chief, let's get the medical stuff out of the way. You look like you may have gained a pound or two. You needed it. And we'll unzip your face while you're here."

"You sharpen those needles yet, Lila?"

Chief was back. She'd pass on the tank for tonight. His response was emotional, highly emotional, but it was like a catechism of rules, rules he'd made up. God help Carina if anything happened to Toc. He'd kill her, not literally, but certainly make her rue crossing him and one of his decisions. He was like that. Protective and forgiving, but the forgiving part took a long time.

She was removing the sutures with care and her usual gentle touch. Once again he appreciated that she treated him differently from the usual doctor who considered operational people as 'meat'.

"Lila, I've meant to compliment you on your suturing. You have a caring and gentle touch and I've missed that. The other doctors treat us like 'meat' but you're different. Thank you for that."

She was shocked at his comment and felt herself tearing up. No one ever told her they appreciated her gentle touch and she'd tried hard to maintain it, even in the special medical unit. "Thanks, Chief, you really know how to make a girl's day. I mean it, thanks, Chuck."

"Well, I meant to do it before and never got around to it and the way things happen, I just wanted to make sure it got said."

"You know what, Chief?"

"Nope, but you're going to tell me, right?" He liked the friendly banter with the short doctor. If Sarah hadn't been in the picture early on, he would have been comfortable pursuing a relationship with Lila Bloom, but not now, of course.

"Walker's a lucky woman and you, my friend, are a lucky man. Don't screw it up, Chuck but I'm always here if you need a confidential ear to bend. And the offer of the lasagna dinner has no expiration date."

He reached down and hugged the little doctor. She'd always been his friend and always was there for him. "Even if I freak out and become the loser I really am, Lila?"

"You'll never be a loser to me, Chief. And you won't freak out if you just take your pills and think before you act. Now, go check in with Beckman. She's been bugging the crap out of me for a report the minute we're through here. So walk slowly, Chief. Hit up the commissary for coffee. Give her time to digest the good news. She needs some."

General Beckman's Office

NSA Headquarters

FT Meade, MD

"Five minutes, Chief. Then I have meetings. Good report. You're looking good. Gained weight according to the doctor. She was right, minimal scarring. She does good work."

"Yeah, she has a sure and steady hand. So, how's the leg? I see you're back in the chair." He wanted to say 'See, withered, just like your heart' but he had no desire to be in detention.

She sighed. He got right to the heart of it every damned time. No preliminaries, just right to the issue.

"Hurts like hell and your magic exercises don't seem to work anymore."

"Diane, you have to actually _**do**_ the exercises and massage if it's going to improve." He walked behind her desk and wheeled her out into the common area in the conference room.

Thirty minutes later she could stand without pain and walk without a noticeable limp. It would only last a few days but it felt wonderful. No cramping, no shooting pains and no damned cripple seat.

"Well, thanks again. I owe you one. So, go ahead. Ask."

"Why did you put Toc back on active? You know he's not fit for duty. If you'd just look into his eyes you'd know that. Carina's ready for her own team but damn it, General, she should know better. He's been on the Yetis since day one and now he's going to get greased sure as shit."

'_So, we're back to General not Diane. Lila's right. He's back and sharper than before.'_

"It was his decision and Carina made the right decision. She needed an experienced operator as her 2IC and he was willing and able."

"I see. Do your exercises, General. Keep up the massaging. I'm going to teach Lila how to do this. Should have done it before but never thought of it until now. Thanks for you time, General."

NSA Dispensary – Office of Dr. Lila Bloom

"Chief, I just don't have time right now. How about tonight after duty hours. You're staying on base tonight and you can do your demonstration here. Makes sense. Seven all right with you? Give you time to eat and me to go home and change."

"Fine with me. And yes, lose the skirt, definitely. Sweats would be best."

'_I'd lose the skirt right here and right now if you'd just give me the nod, Chief. Walker would never know and we could continue on very discretely. Itches and scratches_.'

"Fine. See you then. And eat a healthy dinner, Chuck. And tell Sarah 'hi' for me when you call her. Oh, that's right. You lost your cell phone…" She looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

Chuck did the only thing possible in this situation, he did nothing at all but nod.

"Well, lucky for you it's been found. Here. Get a dummy cord and don't lose it again. And don't turn it off or let the charge go down." The GPS transponder required battery power from the phone itself. Turning it off or letting the charge deplete killed it.

7pm

Chuck walked down through the dispensary area and to the admin area. The place was like a tomb with no one currently banged up enough to need hospitalization that couldn't be handled by the base hospital staff or anyone with any security issues. Not even a skeleton crew at the nurses station.

Lila Bloom was at her computer. She certainly looked different. Her hair, normally loose or stacked on her head was in one long queue down her back, heavily braided with a leather thong. She was wearing a tank top and a pair of biker shorts and flip flops. Definitely on her own time.

"Hey, Chief. You get dinner? I saw the menu at the commissary. They say it's chicken but I've always had my doubts."

"I went down to the PX on post. Got a cholesterol burger with all the gooey, nasty, artery-clogging trimmings. Once Sarah's back it's tofu and silk milk. Yuck."

She laughed and gave him an appraising look. He'd worn jeans and a Henley and tennis shoes and he looked scrumptious. Damn, he would have to go and get married. Half the fun of Chuck in the tank was stripping him… she had an evil side, very evil.

"OK, let's get this started. We can use the diagnostics table since I'm only going to show you the excises and massage moves that Diane will need. She'll be in a better mood and you'll be very popular." He grinned and then gestured for her to hop up in the table.

"If you do this on bare skin you'd better wear latex gloves and use a massage oil but the General wears uniform pants so that's not a problem. If she wore a skirt it would have been very undignified and a little unsettling, at least for me."

"Why, Chief, do older women turn you on?" She laughed but the question lingered, unanswered.

He poured a bit of massage oil in his palms and rubbed his palms together warming it. He told her to lie down with her knees at the edge of the table, dangling. He started by explaining the need to relieve the knots in the muscles in the General's thigh and hip. When he started his long strokes with finger tips deeply into the muscles she groaned and Chuck asked if that was hurting her.

"Oh, God, no. I've been needing this for ages. Don't stop now. Those long strokes unbundled the myeletic bundles; I've figured that out. What's with the rotation of the finger tips though?"

"Supposedly it releases evil spirits but my teacher, an MD, says it breaks down lactic acid deposits by stimulating the lymph system. I don't know, I'm an electrical engineer not an endocrinologist. Speaking of which, remember to wash your hands thoroughly when you're done unless you really like having orange or lime colored hands."

"Ok, roll over and I'll go through the back side muscles."

When he was done with his demonstration and she'd agreed that she understood the process and the steps necessary to relieve the cramping and aching in the General's thigh he asked her to do a self-demonstration on her own left leg. "You have to make sure she can do it to her own leg and that she does do it otherwise you're wasting your time. Luckily for her, the damage is mostly to the lateral muscles and not those in the back of the thigh."

Lila hopped down off the exam table and promptly fell against Chuck, not realizing that her leg wouldn't support her weight immediately. "Lila, you don't have the damage the General does and so it was more a deep massage for you than relief. You should be able to walk OK in a few minutes. I forgot about that." He remembered the massage he gave Sarah and immediately felt guilty even though this was just a demonstration.

Lila was having very different thoughts about the Chief. She could imagine him doing that to her all over, not just her leg. And it wouldn't be a demonstration, either. She vowed to have him in her bed, Sarah Walker be damned! She was already coming up with conditioning steps to accomplish her goal, very subliminal instructions…

NSA Headquarters

VIP quarters

12:15am

Sarah had driven straight through from Virginia to FT Meade, leaving the very instant the orientation session was over and stopping only for gas. She went through the identification process at the main gate and then went to the VIP quarters and found the room occupied by her husband. She loved the word - husband.

Using the pass keycard she'd been given at the lobby guard station she slipped in and went directly to the small bathroom after determining that Chuck was asleep in the small double bed. A small lamp burned in the corner providing just enough illumination for her to see his sleeping face and she was pleased to see that the surgical dressing had been removed.

She washed her face, stripping off the day's makeup and then tied her hair into a ponytail and folded her clothes and put them back into the bag. Checking her appearance once in the mirror she was struck by the look of happiness on her face. She didn't get to see that look much but knew that was a thing of the past now.

She slipped into the bed and lay there counting the seconds. 1… 2… 3… 4… His arm snaked over and around her abdomen and he pulled her and himself to 'their' center of the bed and he buried his face in the crook of her neck, and sighed, still asleep. Her smile would have lit up the room if such a thing were possible. Even asleep he knew she was back and took possession of her. Even asleep, he could find her and make her his. Even asleep, he made her so damned happy.

NSA VIP quarters

3am

Chuck woke up and felt the early morning disorientation that usually only lasted a few minutes while his mind and body reconnected, reestablished control and his brain displayed the agenda for the day.

This morning, however, there was no disorientation just the delightful realization that he was surrounded by Sarah Bartowski, a very warm and naked Sarah Bartowski who was, at that very moment, drooling on his chest.

For a moment in time, a few moments, he was totally at peace. He didn't know what time she'd gotten in but wished she'd have at least awakened him for a welcome home kiss. He'd become totally addicted to her. He was a junkie and she was his fix.

His mind betrayed his happiness by flashing on his agenda for the day. They were leaving for Fiji the following day and everything would change then. Would he have the stones to go through with it? Had he totally misread her ultimate intentions? Would she follow his lead or revert to _Sarah Walker, NSA Analyst_ and perform her duty to the greater good?

He checked his mental To Do list and prioritized a few things in a different order and then looked at the clock 3:03am. It was too early to do much of anything although he had quite a few lewd and totally appropriate thoughts when his wife repositioned herself. Her warmth was enticing and he thought seriously about another 3 or 4 hours of sleep when his cell phone intruded on his reveries.

"Chief, secure." Why did he answer that way? It was automatic. It was business and duty and he had nothing to do with either of them for the next 17 days.

"Beckman, secure. Chief, Carnivore's in the shitter and we're putting together an ad hoc reinforced team to go and pull them out. Briefing in 10 minutes. Sorry, Chuck. They've run into a really deadly situation and we have to bail them out. I need you one more time."

"Of course. I do get to bring my new babysitter along, right?"

Beckman mulled that over for 3 seconds weighing pros and cons before answering. "Of course, that's why she's here. Someone's got to watch out for you and it's her rice bowl." She hung up and Chuck had to grin. Butch and Sundance ride again.

Now for the hard part.

"Sarah, sweetheart, duty calls. I have to go make love to Carina and Beckman says you can watch if you want."

1…2… "What the hell? Are you serious? Duty? No fu…" He silenced her with a kiss, sending the usual package of feelings and reassurances.

"Good, you're awake. Carnivore's in trouble and Beckman needs us. Up and at 'em, my sexy tigress. Time to kick ass and take names."

They were only 2 minutes late for the briefing and Beckman was surprised they'd made it that quickly and said so. There were snickers and envious looks around the table but she brought the briefing back on topic quickly.

"Carnivore has screwed the pooch and kicked an entire Hive awake. What should have been a recon then a simple in and out is now a full-fledged firefight. Your 4 teams are interdiction and extraction only. The Hive's been compromised so the intel we're after has been destroyed by this time. The Fulcrum troops are bottled up on a peninsula in Baltimore harbor out near Sparrow Point in an old J&L Steel plant that's been abandoned since 1980 and they have no way out. Get our people out and let the Coast Guard and regular authorities handle the collars."

"Chief, your job is to coordinate the teams, not to be in the thick of things. You have an oversight role only. Not operational. Your job is to tell them what to do, not do it yourself, clear?"

"Yes ma'am, crystal." He almost flashed on the Sparrow Point plant but it was like tickling but nothing was coming. Weird. He'd mentioned it to Lila before and she said it was common for people on the pharmaceutical cocktail he'd been on.

"Do you understand, Mrs. Bartowski?" Sarah swore she saw a twinkle in the old crone's eyes.

"Yes, ma'am. Oversee and coordinate only. No ground games. No heroics. No doing."

"Excellent. Get moving, people."

Chuck met briefly with his team. There were two new members he'd never met and his flash through the intersect simply identified them as 'NSA Operatives' with a listing of qualifications and recent missions. Nothing to inspire or condemn. More drones.

"When our chalk hits the ground, form a perimeter and go to over watch roles. We'll leapfrog to the front edge and check things out. Engage any stragglers but be damned sure they're not ours. Load up and let's go."

"Chuck, I'll be on your left or behind you at all times. Do not get involved. Your job is to coordinate the rescue not get into the thick of things. I've got your back, sweetheart, and intend to enjoy Fiji so watch your step, Bartowski." Her quick kiss and grin settled the butterflies in his stomach.

The 45-minute flight from FT Meade to Sparrows Point gave Chuck time to grab a quick nap. Once again Sarah marveled at his ability to just sleep when everyone else was keyed up and on edge. She still didn't trust helicopters. Wings spinning over her head were not comforting at all.

Sparrows Point, MD

J&L Steel Plant (Abandoned)

5:30am

Hansen had pulled her group out of the office complex that fronted the plant and out into the parking lot where their vehicles had been left. Now the burning hulks served as beacons for the arriving strike teams. Law enforcement was queued up ready to pour into the complex and arrest anything that moved once the threats were eliminated. LEOs were not equipped to handle Fulcrum's soldiers and weaponry.

Sarah looked out the chopper door and wondered for about the billionth time why they just didn't pull back, form a cordon and starve them out. That would take a long time, gain publicity and cast doubt upon the unity, loyalty and efforts of the American intelligence services.

The chopper landed, the squad deployed on the ground as instructed and then the chopper took off to provide overhead illumination. Sunrise was 45 minutes away and the swirling snow and overcast did little to promise a bright and shining day. Sarah wished they were already in Fiji or anyplace else warm.

His squad deployed in an arrowhead with Chuck at the base and Sarah on his left. He felt a sense of dread as they approached the burning wrecks of Team Carnivore. Someone had not dotted their 'Is' or crossed their 'Ts'. He saw bodies covered by a tarp or something. He also saw why they didn't extract on foot.

The other teams were fully engaged and were pushing Fulcrum's foot soldiers back into the mill complex. Another rat screw. They didn't have enough fire power or manpower to root them out once they got in deep.

Chuck sighed and gave a hand signal for the R/T. He radioed the chopper to land and evacuate the dead and wounded from Team Carnivore and then return for them.

'_So much for a quick in and out, Carina. What the hell were you thinking? __**Were**__ you even thinking?'_

Sarah touched his left shoulder and pointed to Carina. The chopper landed a few yards behind them and the medics unloaded their stretchers and equipment and rushed to the scene.

Sarah brought her mouth close to his ear and yelled "4 dead, 1 wounded, 1 missing. No one's reported finding a friendly, either dead or alive so that means he's probably been captured or he's dead somewhere not readily accessible to the teams. This damned snow isn't helping things either."

He grabbed her hand and pulled her over to where the medic was working on Carina. The heat from the burning vehicles caused the snow to melt the instant it touched down. The asphalt of the parking lot was melting and beginning to burn.

Chuck knelt down beside Carina and then leaned over and whispered something into her ear. She looked up at him, finally recognizing who'd spoken to her and closed her eyes. Sarah could see the tears coursing out of the corners of her eyes. Whatever he'd said had an impact on her. He patted her cheek and then stood and walked over to the bodies covered by the tarp.

"Pinkston, Angela, 28; Wilkes, Arnold, 26; Blake, Geoffrey, 31; Tockermanua, Reynaldo, 31." Chuck recited a brief biography for each after providing the medic with the identification.

"The missing team member is Dani Chisholm, er, Danielle. She's 28, a single parent, divorced but she doesn't…er...didn't have custody so normal notification rules apply. She's been with NSA 4 years. Short, about 5'1", 125 pounds, blonde, blue, very nice girl, they all were nice people."

He turned to Sarah and pulled her close and said loud enough for her to hear "Get me out of here or tranq me, Sarah. I owe these people many times over. The Agency owes them. I owe Dani for…for…ahhh shit!" She'd come prepared and stuck the syringe into his neck. She knew he'd want to go after the missing striker and she'd waited to see if he'd be reasonable or just bug out and do what was necessary to get her back.

NSA VIP Quarters

9am

He felt the pins and needles sensation of awakening from a tranquilizer dart. He tried to wipe his face with his hand but he couldn't move it. He fumbled around with the other hand and rubbed his eyes hoping to restore his blurred vision. God, he hated being tranqued. Casey must have enjoyed the hell… wait, Casey was gone. Who?

Sarah felt the arm she was holding against her try to move and she squeezed his hand and then raised her head to look at him. She'd been so wired and tired from the drive from Virginia to FT Meade and then the early wake up for a mission and then the necessity of immobilizing her husband…she'd fallen asleep beside him in their bed.

"Don't bring any of those things on the honeymoon or it'll be a really short one, Samantha Jayne Roberts Bartowski."

"Sorry, sweetheart, but you did ask for it. And I just followed your orders. I'm so pleased you kept your word, Chuck. No haring out. You had to have been dying inside when you asked me to tranq you."

"Um, I don't remember any of that, not really." He remembered everything but didn't want to burden or worry her.

Then, very quietly, "Did they find Dani?" He was dreading the answer just as he suspected she was dreading the question.

"Yeah. She was dead, Chuck. Probably before you even arrived at the plant. They'd had time to really work on her. I'm sorry, Chuck, but we promised each other '_no more lies'_.

"Yeah, I know. Sometimes lies are better than the truth though. I need to be at the debriefing, Sarah. I need to know what went wrong with the planning and execution. This can't happen again. We have to isolate the weaknesses and eliminate them. Mission failures are not an option any longer."

She sighed and then hugged him. "There's no debriefing until Carina gets out of surgery and can coherently report. She was the only survivor, Chuck. I'm sorry."

"Yeah, so am I."

NSA Medical Dispensary

10am

Sarah waited in the hall while Chuck picked up his meds for the trip. He hadn't said much about anything, just reminding her that she'd done the right thing and he was proud of her for doing her duty. That kind of freaked her out. The old Chuck would have stuck his thumb in his mouth and gone and sulked in a corner while this Chuck seemed…more like Casey on a bad day. She shuddered to think what the two of them together on a mission would be like.

Lila Bloom was surprised when he asked her for his meds for the trip. She figured she'd have to track him down and hogtie him for his immunity boosters and his other meds. He hadn't said much other than the necessary responses to her questions and she really wasn't at all surprised. The rescue mission had been an utter bust and the casualties to Team Carnivore horrific, worse than any Chief's team had encountered. Either Carina made a mistake or one of her team did. She knew he was taking it hard.

"Lila, when I get back I think I'll take you up on your friendly ear and that lasagna dinner. I really need to have a friend who knows the business but isn't involved with it. I mean someone not on a team. Hell, you're more involved than anyone. Who do you talk to, Lila, when it gets too bad to sleep or eat or even talk? Who's your father confessor?"

"You're welcome any time, Chief. I'd like to be your friend and since you're my patient nothing you say can be repeated. Patient confidentiality and all that. I'll look forward to you coming back. As for me unloading, well, maybe we can help each other. There's really no one here I can talk with. So, yeah, we can help each other. I'll cook the lasagna and you bring the wine."

"Lila, there's something I have to tell you. I'm not going to Fiji. I'm going back to Greece. It's a surprise for Sarah and I paid the ticket difference. I'll email you daily so you don't freak out about my 'condition'. Please keep it between us. I'll see you when I get back. And please, don't tell Sarah about our dinner plans. I have to have at least one secret from her." He winked at her and left.

General Beckman's Office

10:45am

"Well, Chief, you enjoy your honeymoon and then come back healthy and ready for work. We'll need to rebuild the teams and I want your input. You were right about Carnivore and I'm sorry I didn't listen. Now, go. Be gone. Have fun."

"Twenty-two days… I'll see you then."

**Reagan International Airport**

**Washington, DC**

They arrived at Reagan International for their flight to Fiji and before they checked in, Chuck took Sarah aside.

"Sarah, do you trust me?"

"Of course, why?"

"Then please take this package into the ladies room and review the contents and then meet me at Concourse B in the International Terminal in forty minutes. If you're not there, I'll understand, Sarah, really, I will. Now go, I'll always love you, Sarah, only you."

"Chuck, what the he…" He smothered her lips with a patented Tibetan Liplock and sent her a gushing wave of lust.

"Forty minutes, wife. Don't be late. And please don't just stand there looking like you just had sex, it's very unnerving to the priests and nuns waiting for the long flight to Ireland, my lovely."

Forty minutes later a smiling Samantha Turner met her husband Charlie at Concourse B.

"Sorry I'm late. Dragging these bags around is a killer, Charlie."

"Sorry, couldn't be helped. Had to get a reissue of our tickets and arrange a layover in Mexico City. Ready to board?"

"Oh, yes. First Class? Oh my." Then she saw their ultimate destination and threw her arms around him, happy tears overflowing from her eyes.

"You are a devious son of a bitch, Chief. This is a story I have to hear. Did you plan on 8 stitches or was that an accident?" No one said his wife was dumb.

"I'll tell you all of it later. Right now let's check the bags and get boarded. And please, Samantha, no hysterics if the attendant holds my hand in excess of your established parameters. We definitely do not want to draw attention to ourselves."

The flight to San Francisco was uneventful. Chuck slept the entire flight, waking for meals and meds and a short conversation with his beautiful new wife, Samantha.

"Chuck, these pills, are they safe? They make you depressed, sweetheart, and that can't be good. Are you sure Lila's on the straight and narrow with us"?

"I trust her with this, but nothing more. She's working to rebuild my immune system as well as some general non-addictive tranquilizers. The same thing they did before when side effects weren't anticipated but they were dealing with damaged goods and, well, me and my already twisted view of reality, Sam."

"You know, that's what my Mom always called me. Daddy called me 'Samantha Jayne', never anything else."

"Thanks, I'll make sure never to sigh 'Samantha Jayne' after making love. Just too weird."

"It's going to take a while for my to respond to 'Sam' or 'Samantha'. I've been Sarah to you and me for a long time, Charlie." She giggled then snorted, covering her face in embarrassment. Apparently he wasn't a convincing 'Charlie'.

"I never asked you about all of this. I just assumed you'd come along for the ride. Here we are at 30,000 feet and I'm asking if you're OK with running off the grid with me. I couldn't risk asking before, in case, well, honestly, in case you still had 'issues' with us. I know you married me, but that was probably for my money."

"I was never so worried or afraid watching the clock count off those forty minutes. I don't know what I'd have done if you hadn't shown up, Sarah. I was so afraid because there was nothing I could do to influence your decision. I didn't _want_ to do anything. That's why I sent you to the ladies room. It had to be your commitment, not mine, Sarah, can you understand?"

She elbowed him in the ribs and then grabbed his hand in hers. "Until death do us part, husband. Satisfied?"

"No. But once I get you alone both of us will be. Trust me." He did the time-tested eye dance.

They changed planes in San Francisco and flew to Mexico City and after a day of sightseeing and watching for tails and a long bus ride to the western coast, connected via Mexicali to Belize City. Chuck remembered everything eventually, just sometimes at inopportune times. He tried to make finding any breadcrumbs as difficult as possible for potential pursuers.

**Belize City Airport**

**Customs Queue**

"OK, Sam, I'm on your plan, now. You said you had a place here. I just hope I'm not being presumptive in assuming you want me here. Speak now or forever hold your peace."

They were standing in line to pass through Customs. She knew what was in her suitcases but had no idea what 'novelties' Chuck may have packed. She held her breath when the Black Customs Officer raised the lid on Chuck's suitcase and turned pale. He looked at Chuck, then at 'Samantha' and reached in and took an envelope out of the case, glanced around and pocketed it. He put the big 'X' on each of their bags with no further inspection and wished them a joyous honeymoon in Belize and many children and smiled like it was Christmas.

Outside, Chuck turned to Sarah and asked her for instructions. He had a strange look on his face and for a moment she wondered if she were witnessing the onset of one of his 'spells'.

"Chu-Charlie, what's wrong? Are you OK?" She was concerned because he just seemed to be 'waiting'.

"Sam, I have no idea what I'm doing from this point on. My plan ended with Customs, and I'm in your hands now. So, do your thing. I haven't screwed anything up for you, have I, Sarah? You did tell me you had a plan for Belize? Please tell me I didn't imagine it? Oh, God, it's a false memory isn't it? I can't even trust my own memories. " His distress was evident in his voice and the look on his face. He looked like he had when she first arrived after the 'suicide attempt'.

She took both his hands in hers. "No, baby, you didn't imagine it. It's a real memory. I told you about this back in San Pedro and then in Greece. You got it right. I'm just trying to decide whether to grab a cab or rent a car. What do you think, Charlie?"

'_Keep him engaged and focused. That's what Lila had told her. Keep him in the 'here and now' or risk losing him to the uncertainty in his mind.'_

"What would you do if you were here alone or with Bryce, Agent Walker?" He looked like a lost boy at that moment. She wanted to shake him and scream at him that she was his wife, he was her husband, and Bryce Larkin was worm food but she couldn't upset him in public.

"I originally planned to come here alone, Charlie. But then the plan changed and I couldn't imagine being alone with anyone else but you. You're the only man in my life worth sharing this with. So, come on, I've decided. We'll rent a small car, maybe a jeep, and head for my palace by the sea. Bring your bags, Chu-Charlie, OK?"

She rented a jeep and put the top down and Chuck loaded their bags into the back. When she walked out of the rental office he was sitting on the hood in a lively discussion with an old man who was trying to sell him a wooden carving. Just as she was about to shoo the man away she heard Chuck ask "So, William, you are suggesting that we charter your son's boat for a few days later in the month for snorkeling? And you can get my bride and I a fine day-rate? Fine. But your 'antique' carving, William, come on. It's stamped 'Hecho en Mejico'. Shame on you. And I suppose your son's boat is 'hecho en Mejico' too?"

"Damn me, touristman, I just try and make a buck. Me boyo's boat be there. You come see. I get you one day FREE! What more you can say?"

"I got the card. I will ask my wife. What say ye to that, fellow?" William squinted at Chuck through his blinding cataracts.

"Damn me, you been here befo'. I remember you now. You and those mens with mean faces and dark glasses. You scared poor William but ye paid as promised. Welcome back, Chief. You find that Sarah-girl you be pine for?"

"Married her, William. Finally."

"You come see me by 'n by, I show you where you snorkel and my boyo boat be free for two days. Come see me, now, Chief. You take back the package I keep for you. You paid well, I kept my word, Chief."

He walked away smiling and mumbling and Chuck sat on the hood, pale and sweaty.

"Hey, met an old friend? Snorkeling? That's wonderful. Hey, you all right?"

"I've never been here before, Sarah, I swear. But he knows me and kept a package for me. Oh, what's been done to me? What else have I done without knowing about it? And where was Carina? She's been with me except for the first 2 weeks."

"Hey, we'll sort this all out when we have less important things to do. We're on our honeymoon, my gray lover, and I want some honey. I got to swing by Barclay's and get my money and my stuff out of a safety deposit box and then it's up the Mosquito Coast to my palace by the sea. I promise you'll love it, Chuck."

Chuck opted to remain in the jeep for the few minutes Sarah was going to need to do her banking. He sat on the hood of the jeep watching the people and the tourists. He imagined what their lives were like and if they were happy or not. He'd always been a people watcher.

Inside the bank Sarah approached an officer, gave him a pass code and then gained admittance to her safety deposit box. She removed a small satchel, keys and a thick stack of Belize currency and then stepped out into the lobby. She made a call on her cell.

"Hansen, secure."

"Bartowski, secure. Hey, how you feeling? Chuck wanted to stay until you were out of surgery but the tickets, well, you understand, don't you? Carina, was Chuck ever out of the US on missions? We're in Fiji finally and we ran into someone in San Francisco airport who said he knew Chuck and you, from of all places, Belize. You guys ever go international? Chuck blew him off with a 'man, I'm on my honeymoon and you're asking me about another woman?' but he was so persistent. Chuck dragged him off to the men's room and beat the hell out of him for bothering us."

"Sarah, you don't want to ask questions you don't want the answers to. Trust me. Chuck aborted the mission when someone let slip that we were going after a non-Fulcrum individual as part of an off-the-books op. We flew in, he did the recon and came back and told the team to ruck-up and go home. He stayed here another day "finalizing" some issues."

"I waited for him at our hotel room. He came back, minus about a pint of blood and a stomach wound that I did an emergency fix on, and we flew back to Houston and then on to DC. Bloom stitched him up and put him in isolation and he was back in place in 4 days. That's all I can tell you."

"Hey, I got to go. Chuck's here and we're going sailing and snorkeling. I'll bring you a t-shirt from Fiji. But one last question… did you sleep with him, Carina?"

"Shit, Nightmare, you would ask about that. I tried to, really. We were going as husband and wife. Four nights in the same bed. Every time I kissed him for the cover he looked at me and said 'you're not her, please don't do that.' But Lord, watch out when he sleeps. He dreams, screams, talks about glaciers and how cold he is and if you touch him, he goes ballistic.'

"Forget the t-shirt, bitch. I'll be back in 3 weeks and we'll definitely continue to explore the ramifications of your actions."

'_Oh crap. And he doesn't remember. 'Minus a pint of blood?' This is not good._

"Hey, Charlie, does Lila know where we're going on our honeymoon?"

"Nope. She thinks we went back to Greece. I gave her our address there and an email address I used at the old internet café. I figure I'll find a place here and bump an email to her 'from Greece'. Keep them wondering. Especially when they trace the originating ISP as an internet café in Colombo, Sri Lanka. C'mon Sarah, you know I trust no one but you with 'us'."

She kissed him and tickled his lips with her tongue. "Let's roll, Charlie. I want to have a couple of hours of daylight to air out the house and dust and stuff. Been a while since I've been here but the neighbor lady cleans it every week from a bank account I set up for it. I called her from the airport and she promised to stock it with food and beverages and start the generator for us."

"Please, Sarah, swing by the American Express office. I have a package to pick up, OK? Shouldn't take but a few minutes."

"A package? You just remembered a package? When did you have time to send yourself a package?"

"Right before the wedding. All I had to do was bribe the gate guard to take it down to FexEx for me. Piece of cake. I told him if it wasn't delivered I'd kill him. It'll be there."

Sometimes this new Chuck was…different. And scary.

Chuck ran into the Amex office and emerged 5 minutes later with a 1 foot square box.

"What's in the box, sweetheart? Another surprise like the airport?"

"Patience, Sarah. You never used to be this impatient. What's gotten into you lately?"

"It's what _hasn't gotten in to me_, Chuck… hint!"

"Oh! Right. Let's go then. All done here, yes ma'am, all done. Well, let's go, Sarah, I mean, Samantha. This name business is lame. Should have issued numbers."

"Lila, I think you've been played. Carina got a call from Walker in Fiji. Something about a guy from Belize upsetting Chuck and how he got really upset about this guy asking about Carina on his honeymoon. Greece? You don't go to 'Frisco to fly to Greece."

"Why would he do that? We'd know for sure if you'd let me put the subcutaneous GPS transponders in his wound. He was out cold when I fired that shot across his face. Would have been the perfect opportunity when I stitched it up later."

"I don't care. I want those files. If he's gone on his honeymoon we'll just use the isolation tank to break him down when he gets back. I'll send the wife to the Secret Service course for protective services and we'll have access to him for at least 3 weeks. Dope him up and put him in the tank. I will have those files. He knows where they are, I know he does."

"And you're sure Carina knows nothing more than she's already admitted? Maybe some tank time would help her memory."

"Not right now. She still thinks the world is round. We'll coop her just like we did Tockermonoa. As long as she thinks it's for the greater good she'll always tell us the truth."

The jungle and the mangrove swamps edged right up to the highway. Chuck was sitting up and suddenly leaned over the side and vomited. Sarah slammed on the brakes and was beside him in a second, or so it seemed.

"Jesus, Sam, I – I – never get car sick." He was looking down at his mess and had a flashback…

"_Chuck, you have to take these pills and lay down in the tank. It's an experimental procedure to reduce stress and restore balance. You don't want the dreams_ _anymore do you, Chuck? Sarah calling you from the containers, not being able to find her, letting her die because you're a coward and wouldn't try and save her? Good boy, Chuck. Take them all and get in the tank. I'll be monitoring everything and you won't dream, Chief, I promise."_

"Oh, shit, Sarah, sensory deprivation and drug therapy. I remember. Lila crooning her vile filth about how I let you die in the containers, how I was too afraid to get you, how I wouldn't try to save you. I would have, Sarah, honest. I wouldn't let you die. You have to believe me, Sarah."

"I – I wasn't trying to commit suicide, Sarah, I was trying to kill her! I heard your voice on the phone and hers on her phone to Beckman. Some of the words and phrases were the same but the voice. It was her voice telling me I left you! It was her voice telling me I was a freak, a loser. I tried to shoot her but missed. She hung up the phone and just grinned and told me to give her the pistol and I did and she shot me!"

She was horrified. She knew the CIA used deprivation tanks to break down terrorists and others. But to use it on a fellow agent, implanting false images, cultivating psychoses - unbelievable. And Lila? And to shoot Chuck?

"Chuck, listen to me. Look at me and listen to me. She put you on drugs. She made you sick then used it to find out things. Or maybe to get you to do things. None of it is real. You would never leave me, never abandon me, it was all a lie. Now, where are those damned pills she gave you?"

The road ended and Sarah turned down an overgrown cart path and drove slowly for about a mile parallel to the seacoast. She slowed the jeep and saw what she'd been looking for. She got out, pulled loose some overgrowth and then grasped a vine and pushed an entire section of jungle open like a doorway revealing another cart path. The 'section' was a carefully designed trellis that sprung from a series of large pots on a single piece of wood that was hinged in some way to a tree.

She drove down the path a few yards then went back and closed her 'gate' rethreading some of the vines from the trellis into the jungle growth.

About a mile later they emerged from the jungle undergrowth into a clearing where a ramshackle house stood on piers. She parked the jeep underneath the house between the piers beside a stairway.

"Here we are, Charlie. Looks can be deceiving. Let me go make sure the generator's on and then we'll check out our palace by the sea. I always planned on ending up here. I just never dreamed I'd be so lucky as to have you in my life here."

Chuck walked up onto the gallery and verandah. It was 20 degrees cooler up here with the breezes keeping the mosquitoes and gnats away. They had an incredible view of the sea and beach about 75 yards from the house. He noted the crafty and careful landscaping that made the house almost invisible for the shoreline. He plopped down on a rattan chair and propped up his feet and sighed. Home.

Sarah found him in the chair, feet on the railing, a huge smile on his face, sleeping. She almost broke down in tears at the sight of her husband here, in her secret place. She never thought life could be so good or that she deserved to be so damned happy. When The Nightmare made all these arrangements it was not intended to be a lovers' refuge but rather a dark hole to hide in and hopefully go unnoticed.

"Sweetheart, let me show you around and then we'll nap for a while and then figure out what to cook. And I have a surprise for you… Ellie's been teaching me how to cook. You'll see. Casey loves my lasagna. Even Ellie says it's as good as hers."

"You can cook? But in Greece, I did the cooking. You mean I won't have to slave over a hot stove? Hallelujah."

It started innocently enough with a wife asking her husband a question about a female co-worker.

"Chuck, how did you and Carina work out? Good chemistry?"

"At first, yes, but we had to do a few overnights in place and she became 'Carina the Carnivore' again. If she were a man, she'd be in jail for attempted rape."

"You and she had, um, I mean, in the same bed at night, you must have, did you…"

"Sarah, I did not make love to Carina. I did not have sex with Carina. I did not park willie in the garage. I did not play 'hide the salami'. I made a promise and I never broke it. Can you… Do you believe me or is this something I'm going to have to prove like the 'This isn't Chuck Bartowski' hour? Because if I do, I can't. No tapes, no recordings, no DNA swatches, just my word."

"I wasn't suggesting any thing, in fact I know how you reacted and I couldn't love you more for it."

"Then why the question? Comparing answers?"

"No. I just think Carina used you per Beckman's instructions or Lila's, maybe. She told me how you reacted to a cover kiss and how you reacted to being touched in bed by her. I just think she knows something that might help you unravel your mystery, that's all."

"Why are we discussing the Carnivore when we're finally out of the clutches of that virus who pretends to be a human general?" He ran a finger down her cheek and along her jawbone. She shivered and pulled the sheet over them and kissed his chin and then his lips.

"I want you to make me feel like you did the last time we were together. I've never felt that encased in love before. I want to feel what you feel and you to experience what I do. We have all the time in the world to get it right. After all, practice makes perfect.

Chuck finally slept, exhausted after so much practice. In the waning light of the afternoon, Sarah began to rediscover her husband's body, something she didn't want to do in Maine since the room was so damned cold!

First she examined his hands, noting new scars and a roughness that hadn't been there since before Tibet. He had a new scar on his left forearm, probably from a knife. Moving up she found the bullet graze on his left upper arm. She kissed it, running her tongue along its length, memorizing how his skin felt.

She moved her examination to his chest and abdomen, noting a developing six-pack and a new scar, four inches long across it. _'…minus a pint and a stomach wound…'_

"Sarah, you are very weird. Why are you kissing and licking scars? They don't bother me unless they bother you. Come up here where you belong. Oops, sorry, _Samantha_. Damn, it's going to take a lot of practice, Sam, to let go with an 'ohhhh, Samantha' when I'm so used to 'ohhh, Cariiiiiiiina'.

"_**WHAT?"**_

"Gotcha."

"Butt head."

"Charlie, go sit on the verandah, put your feet up and enjoy the view while I make dinner."

"Can I help?"

"Yes, you can eat it all. You're too damned skinny, Charlie. I think you've lost weight since Tibet. By the way, did you and Lila ever get together for that home cooked meal she was offering? My God, she did everything but suck on your lips."

"Ummm, since we're being truthful, she did that."

"You ate dinner at her place, just the two of you?"

"No, she sucked on my lips at the dispensary until I told her I was taken."

"Arrrgggg. First Carina dies, then Lila, then that scrawny General and her little black dress. Anyone I'm missing?"

"How'd you know about Diane and I dating?"

"Dating? Did you say _DATING?"_

'She needed escorts for political stuff and I, being a 'handsome older man' agreed to escort her from time to time. It wasn't like I asked her, she just sent me an email asking if I'd like to do this or that with her as her escort."

"How often was 'time to time', Charles?" _Warning – Warning – Given Name Alert!_

Chuck just sighed. Jealous Sarah/Samantha was not a pretty sight.

"Well, there was something at the Kennedy Center, a cocktail party at the Israeli embassy, the State of the Union Address, and the reception afterwards, um, lessee, a couple of Ravens games – she loves football and we got to sit in a private box, the Grid Iron Dinner, not much else, I was on a mission during the Super Bowl. Public stuff."

Sarah threw off the sheet and sat on the edge of the bed. "Jesus, Chuck, you had a harem and I had… nothing but memories."

He sat up and sat behind her, as close as he could get with his legs on either side of her, his chest flush with her bare back.

"Sarah, I never did this with anyone else." He put both hands on her shoulders and ran his palms down her arms. She shivered.

"I never did this either." He cupped her breasts in his hands and gently massaged them, sending jolts through her system when he rubbed her nipples with the pads of his finger. She twitched.

"I never, ever, did this." He nipped her ear lobe then ran an open-mouthed kiss down her neck from her ear to the hollow of her collarbone. She moaned softly.

"I never, ever, ever, did this, Sarah." Chuck slowly ran the fingers of one hand through her trimmed curls and moist folds then down her inner thigh leaving a heated tingling path.

"And I never told anyone that I loved them more than air, like you did."

A half hour later she whispered, "I can't ever remember feeling as happy as I do right this minute."

"Remember what I told you, fill seconds with minutes, minutes with hours, hours with days."

"You told me that but I never understood it until now. Time does seem to slow down for us, doesn't it?"

"I need to teach you a couple of things when we're fully rested. Some things are for me and some are for you and some are for us. But now, go cook, wife. And I'll finally go out onto the verandah and relax."

He dozed and woke, dozed and woke. The warm breezes that kept the bugs away and the quiet roaring of the surf were tranquilizers.

'_Chief, we hit this guy, find the stuff Beckman wants, cover our tracks and we're out of there, 10 minutes max. Why the solo recon? It's dangerous with the team and suicide without at least me to watch your back.'_

"_Carina, something's not right about this. I'm not leading the Yetis into an ambush or a compromised situation. We've lost the originals twice over and Toc's not coming back. It's just you and me now. I don't trust the newbies Beckman saddled us with. Go work on your tan and I'll be back before your know it."_

"Chuck, uh, Charlie, come eat before it gets cold." Sarah gently shook him to wake him.

"Sarah, you've been an agent forever. If you had a op to run but didn't trust some of the team, and you had a target, what would you do to set up a plan of attack?"

"Recon, either solo, or with a trusted teammate. Why?"

"Just a dream I had. Crazy dream. I couldn't trust my team and we were someplace doing an off-the-books snatch for Beckman that seemed loaded with risk. Nothing real, I'm sure. Let's eat."

'_Sounds like what Carina described. Was it a dream or a memory, Chuck?'_

"Ellie never made anything like this and very rarely anything this delicious. Please don't cook like this again. I'll weigh 300 pounds before the month is over. Just wow."

"If you're serious, thank you. If you're just doing it to get into my pants again, don't bother. I'm not wearing any." They were both sitting totally naked on the verandah enjoying the cool evening air. Chuck was amazed at the absence of mosquitoes.

"Yeah. You bring new meaning to al fresco dining, Mrs. Turner. I'd race you to the bedroom but I can't move right now."

"Well, Mr. Turner, that's sad because I was thinking about a dip in the sea au natural to go with our al fresco dining."

"Wait, help me up and then roll me down to the beach. Damn. Sexy, beautiful, deadly and she cooks. I won the wife lotto!"

Carina Hansen called later that evening. Sarah looked at the clock and then figured out 'Fiji' time.

"Bartowski, sleeping. Do you know what time it is, Carina Hansen"

"Hansen, secure. Sorry. I got bored and so I was running some old briefing discs before destroying them and I ran across an after-action briefing I think you should see. I'll send it to your Nightmare account. Gotta go. So, is he as good as I thought he'd be?

"He's wonderful and that's all I'm going to say Carina except…you lose – as always."

"Chuck, I'm running to town to pick up some emails from Carina this morning. Too far out here for service. Want to come along?"

"Do you have any idea how many times I had to perform last night? And you want me to be able to perform again, right? Then leave me alone, love of my life, so I can restore vigor and fortitude…in other words, Hell no, I don't want to go. Let me sleep."

"I left breakfast on the warmer. You go ahead and eat then take a long nap because this weather makes me want to," she whispered something in his ear and he immediately jumped up to eat. Sarah laughed delightedly. Married to this guy was so much fun.

"I'll see you in a couple of hours. Be prepared. Oh, and don't get too much sun, I like skin to skin…" and she chuckled evilly and left him speechless, his mouth filled with scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, melon and coffee.

Chuck was bored after a few minutes alone. He prowled around the bungalow, not snooping into her personal stuff but just getting a feel for the layout. It was, as she'd said, not much to look at from the outside but inside a lot of money had been spent making it modern and comfortable without any impact on the dilapidated exterior. It was, in many respects, a _hidden _palace by the sea.

Drinking another cup of coffee, he ambled out onto the verandah and resumed what was becoming his most frequent non-Sarah activity, sitting in the old rattan chair, watching the surf and thinking.

He had a scar on his stomach he couldn't remember getting, and from the size and location, he'd remember, he was sure. Sarah had brought it to his attention with a sexy quest to relearn his body.

Damn. He unpacked one bag but had left the other down behind the stairwell. He walked down to retrieve it, marveling again at how much could be packed in what the CIA had called a 'bag, utility, secure, civilian'.

He opened the bag and began to sort the contents, hanging the dress clothing in 'his' closet as designated by his wife and the various items of the equipment on the bed.

He heard her jeep pull up and park under the house. He could understand why she loved it here. Convenience was understated in every aspect. No garage needed.

"Charlie, you awake, sweetheart?" Damn he was getting so used to being her 'sweetheart'. Made him feel warm all over. "In here, Sam, sorting through my other bag." He could hear her in the frig and then she appeared, a beer in each hand.

"Here. You haven't had one since…I guess I can't remember when. Drink up, Charlie, and … whoa! Chuck, you expecting an invasion? Let's get these sorted out and I'll show you my 'armory'. Nice knife. Gerber? Nothing but the best for my gray haired old fart. So this is why the Customs Agent freaked out? That must have been some envelope you gave him."

"No, it wasn't only my Gerber or the broken-down MP-3 or the C4, your matched Solingens might have had something to do with it also."

He removed a cloth and there were custom matched knives in holsters. There were the 'pinnacle' of combat knives and she'd always wanted a set.

"For me? Really? Solingens? Oh, Ch-Chuck. You got these for me?"

"Sarah, I can't protect you unarmed. It's my job now. Let me do my job. But I want you armed in case I fail or I'm not around anymore. A lousy wedding present but I wanted, no that's not right, I needed to get you these."

She shivered, remembering her words to him back in Burbank. She hadn't done a very good job at protecting her asset, but she would never fail her husband.

"I feel safer already. Now, let's see what's in the files Carina sent us."

"No. There's something I have to do first. Hang on a sec." He went into 'his' closet and took out the box he'd picked up from the American Express office a deftly sliced it open with his Gerber.

"Here. I had no idea how you were set financially so I decided to supplement your funds with some, actually all, of my own." He started pulling out banded stacks of twenty-dollar bills, fifties and hundreds. He left the small box in the bottom of the box.

"Should be $156, 400 there. Seems I never was 'killed' in the finance department so they kept paying me plus I never had reason to spend a lot before so it's almost two years' pay there plus some savings from the 'lost years'. It's all yours, babe. Just add it to your swag. Should keep us a while if we're smart with it."

Sarah just gaped. "You planned all of this in advance, didn't you? You knew something wasn't right and you took steps? Oh, Chuck, I'm so sorry I ever said you didn't think."

"Oh, one more thing." He reached into the box and removed the blue velvet box, opened it and took out a set of wedding rings. "Here, love, your hand looks so… empty." She

teared up as he slid it onto the proper finger of her left hand. "Until death do us part, Samantha Jayne Roberts, I thee wed." Now the tears overflowed and she leaped on him and hugged him.

"Until death do we part, Chuck."

"I suppose this one needs a home too?" He pushed a matching engagement ring onto her finger. A perfect fit with an understated diamond worth much more than he'd paid for it in Athens.

Chuck and Sarah had reviewed the files Carina sent several times. Sarah took notes and made observations. Chuck didn't say much at all.

"You don't remember this mission at all? How about the team members?"

"The big Samoan is Tockermanoa but he's off the team now. He's the one who was slipping me the drugs. Caught a round and he's gone, off the list and never on the other one. There's Carina, of course. The other 3 are Jefferson, Pace and the small guy with the pencil mustache is Haynes. Haynes and Pace are dead. Jefferson is medically retired."

"Off the list? What list is that?"

"There's a list of applicants for the team that Beckman updates as needed. There're always 7 or 8 names. Toc went back and got requalified by Bloom but I wouldn't accept him back. He'd just end up on the other list and I couldn't have that."

"Other list, Chuck?"

"The ones I lost, Sam. That list is too long as it is."

"I see you left the debriefing with Bloom and didn't come back for the after-action summary. Why do you suppose that was?"

"I don't remember the mission, Sar – Sam, so how could I know that?"

She was watching Carina. Sarah saw the look of pity on her face when she rubbed Chuck's arm as he rose to go with Bloom and the utter hatred and contempt when she looked at the doctor. She needed to call Carina back.

"Sam, look at the date stamp. We were in Greece then, weren't we? Dates are kind of fuzzy. We weren't even in country then. These have been altered. But why?"

"Hansen, secure."

"Walker, secure. The dates were altered. Why?"

"You caught that, too? There wasn't even a Team Yeti then. Did you see how Bloom pulled Chuck out of the briefing? What a bitch. 'Wound therapy' my ass. More like beating him with rubber hoses."

"He doesn't remember the mission at all. What was the objective, Carina, and where was it?"

"This was the Belize mission, the off-the-books where Chuck got stabbed. You couldn't tell from his appearance but he had a taped-shut 4-inch nasty slice in his stomach. I guess Bloom was going to do the stitching. He'd already started healing by the time we got back. Damnedest thing I ever saw."

"What was the objective, do you remember? Chuck ran into a guy in the 'Frisco airport who said he knew him from Belize and started hassling him and Chuck beat him senseless in the men's room."

"Get a package of discs and a crate or something from some Cuban along the docks, pay him a huge amount and bring it all home to momma Beckman. Boy, was she pissed at Chuck for the abort."

"So, how's the weather there? Worth all the General's money?"

Sarah had googled the weather before calling and glibly replied "I haven't been out of bed much but it rained last night and a bit this morning. Chuck went down and tried surfing but that failed. They shooed everyone back off the beach because of lightning squalls. I don't care if it rains 24/7. I'm working on a honeymoon tan, Carina."

"Damn, Nightmare, I want details when you get back." Well, the weather checked out. And if she was in bed with the Chief she probably wouldn't know there was weather and wouldn't have cared.

Sarah's Verandah

"Samantha, let's cut to the chase. The mission was in Belize and I got stuck and don't remember a thing. The debrief was bogus and I probably went into the tank instead of back with my team. Results: unknown at this time. It was in Belize, we're in Belize, Sam-I-Am, we need to go snorkeling. Do the whole honeymooner thing for real. But I have one request."

She sat down in his lap with her arms around his neck and nuzzled ear then licked it. She knew it drove him wild. "What's the request, Charlie-warlie?" Sam-I-Am? Take that, Charlie-warlie.

"Wear a bathing suit that won't require me fighting off the men. That lime green postage stamp with strings…oh, fuel for many a fantasy."

She laughed, delighted. "Oh, I put that to good use, didn't I? At least you remembered it."

"Yeah, what little there was of it."

"OK, let's go snorkeling. I'll wear my Burkha-ini."

Belize City Docks

_Seraphim_

"So, my Pop says you get to hire my boat out for snorkeling for three days and only pay for two? He also try and sell you that damned Mexican carving he carries around? You know my Pop is a bit…old and touched in the mind?"

"Actually, I know William from another trip down here. And yeah, he tried to push off the 'hecho en Mejico' carving. He called me 'Chief' and said he had a package for me but I can't find him at any of his usual haunts. And I'll pay three days' hire for three days."

"Wait, you the Chief? Come on board. Any man who take on the Cubanos and save my Pop from a stickin' is due a free ride. Bring the missy and we go out tomorrow morn. And I get Pop here with your package. Paid him well you, Chief. Rare for a tourist. Rare too for my Pop not to try and sell it. Tomorrow morn, bout seven. Bring beer, I'll handle the food."

"Works for me. Tomorrow. Red Stripe OK?"

"So, we're going snorkeling tomorrow at SEVEN? We're on our honeymoon, you know, wake up early, make love, go back to sleep, wake up, have a little make-out session and see if you get to home plate, maybe get up and eat something then…"

"I get the idea, here, Samantha, you don't think seven is appropriate especially given the time it'll take to drive down there and park and walk to the boat and argue about sunscreen and 'oh, my hair, Charlie'. Seven, Sammie, not negotiable. Besides, we're getting the package and the snorkeling. So, early to bed, early to rise, m'love."

"And Mrs. Turner, bring your knives."

Belize City Docks

_Seraphim_

"Chief, you brought your wife. Excellent. A fine day for snorkeling. No rain and light seas." William's son had a lot of William in him. A real BS artist. It was cloudy, the seas were choppy and there were the remnants of a tropical storm stalled off the coast of Panama heading northwest.

"Where's William and my package?"

"Ah, he's 'indisposed' at the moment but will meet us here when we return this evening. Ah, Red Stripe! A man's beer. Bring yourselves aboard while I stow this in the cool locker."

"Chuck, 'indisposed'?"

"Drunk, probably. He's his son, can't expect him to say 'me Pop's in his cups' now, can ye?"

She laughed at his Creole patois. '_He seemed to be developing talents of mimicry. Now if only he could mimic a little less concern for my well being._'

They cast off and steamed east nor' east towards the sea sanctuary and a fine if windy day of snorkeling.

"Mrs. Chief, please to take the helm while I get us a lunch. And three Red Stripes, of course." He grinned at Sarah and slipped down the ladder and below decks to the galley.

"So, 'Mrs. Chief', any second thoughts on today's agenda? I hired the _Seraphim_ for just two days. I'm not all that fond of snorkeling but I wanted to leave the option if you found it as fascinating as you seem to find every new experience. It's always a joy to me to watch you do something new, Sar- I mean Sam."

She grinned. And she said he didn't think. Didn't plan ahead. She gave a happy sigh and put her arm around him pulling him against her. Fill the minutes with hours, indeed.

They set a sea anchor and the skipper brought them a seafood salad and beer for their snack. "We be there in bout one more hour. Clouds be moving more north so we have no winds or chop. You watch for the manta and the white tip sharks here bouts. Down some on the coral and the old wrecks you should see many schools. Maybe dolphin or porpoise, although not many here now this time. Most still down near Panama or out to sea far."

Sarah noticed how he lapsed into the singsong English of older times when he spoke about the sea. From the looks of his hands, he'd been a sailor all his life. From his skin and hair, he had a fair mixture of Creole, Spanish and some occasional English sailor in his gene pool. Sometimes he looked to be 20 and other times much older. Strange. He would be a hard one to mark in a crowd.

They sat in the well deck on the gunnels and ate and drank. Chuck pulled off his t-shirt and walked over to get them another beer and the skipper saw his back for the first time.

"Holy Mary, Saints preserve us, the man was chewed up and spat out by Satan hisself." He crossed himself and touched his juju bag.

Chuck turned and fixed him with the 'Chief's glare'. "It wasn't the debbel, Williams' son, but a scorned woman. Take note and heed lest ye find the same debbel woman in your bed, son." He laughed and the sailor just crossed and muttered to himself.

"Chief, don't tease him like that. It was an industrial accident. He got burned by acid."

He looked at her, grinned, and mumbled "sure 'twas and me mother 'twas Ginger and me Da was the Professor."

Chuck howled and Sarah just glared at him. Cover. He doesn't care about a cover. Well, why should he? And she started giggling too.

They arrived at what the skipper said was the 'perfect place' and Chuck asked him how he knew since there were no reefs, cays or bars to indicate anything. He just put his finger to his nose and said, "I smells it, Chief."

"Sure, and the Tri-Star GPS6 Nav on your console has nothing to do with it at all, right?"

They spent the next 4 hours snorkeling and as Chuck had already assumed, Samantha never wanted to stop. She was a water sprite and could free dive down almost to the reef itself just using her flippers whereas Chuck just barely managed to keep from drowning in comparison.

He spent more time floating on his back than actually snorkeling. If she ever found out the sun was killing the skin and keloid on his back she'd want to cut her fun short and he couldn't have that. He finally climbed back aboard the boat and pulled on a t-shirt from his bag and joined his mermaid on a few of her free dives.

"Chuck, I hate to cut this short but we do have to get with William and get your package. Let's plan on taking our second day next week, OK? Let's take care of business first."

"Works for me." He discussed it with the skipper and then they headed back in. Chuck tried to talk him into joining them for dinner at the pier restaurant but he begged off.

"Chief, I gots to tend to my ship. But thanks for leaving the beer. And I'll see you and the delightful Mrs. Chief next week. Now, William should be up the pier, there's a Carnival boat due in here this afternoon and he never misses a chance to sell one of his statues."

They ran into William at the Carnival pier waiting for the suckers – er- tourists to disembark.

"Chief, you went out on the _Seraphim_, was everything I promised, right?"

"Yes, but now I'd like my package, William. Can I take you to pick it up, please?"

"Sure, we can go now. This damned statue will not sell so I have to bring other authentic Mayan treasures from my warehouse. Sure now, is a good time for it too, Chief."

Sarah drove them to William's 'warehouse' that was actually a shed behind the shack he lived in.

"Say, William, why do you call him "Chief"? Sarah was curious as to the origin of the nickname. "He didn't really ever use the name except on comms when on a mission as a identifier for transmissions.

"Well, the little brown haired girl called him that, Missy." He turned to Chuck. "You remember her. She was hanging on you and you kept brushing her off. Man, I knew then that you be's either crazy or crazy in love wit' someone else. That's when you told me 'bout your Sarah girl and how you missed her but it had to be that way for her to be safe."

Chuck didn't see Sarah's eyes narrow and her lips press into an angry straight line. They would discuss this later, alone.

"Oh, yeah, her, the little nagging girl. So she knew about the package, William? She knew I gave it to you?"

"No, she didn't be here that night the Cubanos came. Just you and me and some Red Stripes. Them some bad mens but we run them off real quick. You give me the package and $1,000 and told me "Hide this until I come back. Don't open it or it will eat you up."

"I still be here, so I didn't open it, Chief. That be one heavy package you put on my soul. Be damn glad to be rid of it."

"Sam, please bring the jeep back here and then go stand beside the house and watch the road, babe. OK?"

Chuck and William put the package in the back of the jeep. It was heavy, very heavy. Suddenly he flashed on what it was. The brown leather, cracked from age, the old lock, and the lead box within. Plutonium.

"William, was there anything else I gave you? Some papers, a computer disc or something maybe? I don't remember just the package."

"Yeah. And you told me to 'hold it until I give you the password, William,' and that seemed strange and you said to remind you about your teacher. Was weird then but I figured it was because you was bleedin' on my floor like a stuck piglet."

"Right, I remember, the big Cuban with the weird eyes stuck me but we ran them off. They never come back here by 'n by William? Never to offer you money or something else?"

"I didn't come back here like you say, I stay way on my boyo's boat for a time. Maybe 3 weeks, I don't remember much me."

"Ahn-Zhu, William, Ahn-Zhu."

He went to the rear of the shed, moved a dry sink from against the wall and reached behind it and tore off a square package secured with tape and gave it to Chuck.

Chuck pulled $200.00 from his wallet and handed it to him. "An honesty bonus, William, and for helping me that night. I don't think I could have walked back to the hotel without help."

He walked back to the jeep and drove it up to the shack. "Get in and drive, Sam, but please be very careful and don't have an accident. I think our kids will appreciate your caution. I got the files here, too. Bonus time. And some damned questions you need to ask that bitch Carina."

"Kids, Chuck? Kids? What kids? We have got to talk about this. I mean kids? We just got married. We have lots of time for that. I'm only 31, Chuck, and I'm not ready for kids. We will talk about this, Charles Irving Bartowski, we sure will."

"Chill out. You'll understand when we get back to our palace by the sea, wife. Believe me, you'll appreciate the precautions I've already taken on their behalf. Four, Sarah, three girls and a boy. All with blonde hair and blue eyes and your features, thank God."

"Four? A litter? This girl does not do litters, Chuck. No way. Maybe one. A boy with brown hair and eyes. No girls. Too much trouble."

"Drive, Samantha. We can discuss progeny later. And we've just ensured ourselves of a 'later'.

They got back to Sarah's place just before dark. Neither said much on the way back but Sarah's mind was racing and running again and again through what had been said in the shed before Chuck had sent her back to the house.

'_That's when you told me about your Sarah girl and how you missed her but it had to be that way for her to be safe.'_

'_And he did it again when he told me to go back to the shack…he wanted me safe from whatever was in that package.'_

She pulled under the house and turned to her husband. "Chuck, no bull this time. What's in the package?"

"I think, judging from its weight and packaging, it's plutonium, Sarah."

"And that's why you wanted me away from it? In case the case had cracked? That's what you meant about our kids appreciating it?"

"Pretty much, Sarah. Do you have a shovel?"

She got him a spade and he told her to please go up into the house and bring him a beer. "Digging is thirsty work, Sam."

When she got back with their beer, he'd somehow manhandled the package to the sandy ground and was dragging it off into the jungle.

She started to follow but he warned her off. "Just going to dig a hole and bury it. Just be a second."

When he came back he was sweaty and the mosquitoes had discovered him. "Beer, shower and then talk, OK? Just display a little of that well known patience, please."

Chuck's back was in spasm from the heavy lifting and had progressed almost to the point of being unbearable. He stepped out of the shower and made his way to the bedroom, a towel around his waist. She was sitting on the bed, waiting for him.

"Sarah, remember what you told me about hiding my pain from you? Well, I need a little help here. I don't think I can ignore this set of muscle spasms. If I direct you, can you rub out the worst of the cramps for me, please, Sarah. Please?"

"On your belly and lose the towel, Charlie. I figured you'd need a little TLC after all that. You should have let me help. I'm not a piece of china that has to be wrapped in cotton. You know better than that."

She started at the base of his spine and pushed her hands up against his back as he'd shown her. The warm oil and her strong fingers loosened cramped muscles and massaged the spasms until they were gone. She knew this would become an almost nightly ritual, one she did not begrudge him.

"What William said about Carina hanging on you and you brushing her off, I'm sorry if I ever had the slightest doubt about you and her. But Chuck, we're in this together and don't you ever send me away again to be safe. I won't go next time."

"I know and while I love you for it I'll hate myself even more if anything happens to you. I can't control my fear for your safety. I saw what you were going to do when I untwisted things in the container, Sarah. I know why this place exists and I'm glad you changed your mind. The world needs fewer Nightmares and more Sarahs. And that's a truth I won't ever deny."

"Better now, sweetheart? The spasms seem to have all been worked out I think. Did I miss any?"

"Feels wonderful. Come up here and we'll have the talk."

They didn't say much but communicated just fine anyway.

Sarah's Palace by the Sea

Belize

5:45am

Chuck sat on their verandah watching the surf and sunrise and listening to the early morning sounds of Belize waking up. He was nibbling at a plate of fruit he'd thrown together after a long discussion regarding his eating habits. He'd promised to eat 'more green stuff and fruit' and lay off the cholesterol bombs. Nag, nag, nag. And he loved it.

It had been 3 weeks since his last intersect update and he'd realized that his flashes had been tapering off in both frequency and in terms of the volume of data he'd been able to access since before the mission he'd had his problems on.

He should have had residual flashes in the airport, the city, someplace, but there'd been nothing, not even a 'realization' of information from previous flashes. Someone had been tampering with the metatags on the 'files', meaning the visual or auditory cues were either self-limiting or had been deliberately blocked. But why and by whom? Only the NSA had access to the intersect compilation process since Graham's 'removal' from the project.

And Carina. What did she know? She'd obviously lied to Sarah since she never mentioned William, a lie by omission.

Too many questions with answers he couldn't find in Belize. Well, he was on his honeymoon. Everything else could wait. He finished his fruit plate and then took a quick shower and slid into bed to see if he could entice his still-sleeping wife into a little wake-up sex.

End Undisciplined3


End file.
